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#class ended early since we were just introducing ourselves but i still managed to have the most annoying night oh my god
todayisafridaynight · 8 months
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Today at trivia: learned a baby hedgehog is called a hoglet. You've many hedgehog themed shenanigans here and I thought you'd like to know if you didn't already 💕
YEAAAHHHH LIL HOGLETS !!!!!! an UPMOST important fact to know...
#snap chats#class ended early since we were just introducing ourselves but i still managed to have the most annoying night oh my god#first my professor accidentally shook my bad hand and i didnt tell him it was A Bad Hand#people usually tell me i have a really good handshake but now my handshake look AWFUL like im sorry prof my hand has cysts in it#awful first impression and those are big to me..#it gets worse though cause i went to get eggs and detergent and my card declined For Some Reason???#the only strange thing i did lately was get gas LMAO I DONT ??? UNDERSTAND.#i mean i got my shit with another card i have but i didnt get the receipt the first time since i thought it was in the bag#but no it gets worse cause i cant even get into my dorm building cause for some reason my id card just. does not open that door#IT OPENS MY DORM ROOM BUT NOT THE BUILDING DOOR and then i couldnt find the housing department room#so i have to email them tonight. to fix my stupid card ig.#but no so i ran back out to ask the clerk if he still had my receipt and He Didnt. Fair Nuff so he just gave me a rough estimate#which is SOOO fun so heres to hoping i didnt underpay my credit card. overpay Ill Live itll prob just be a few cents more#AND THEN I HAD TO DO THE AWKWARD THING WHERE I SIGNAL TO THE DESK CLERK TO LET ME IN. AGAIN#but yeah... AND THEN I HAVE CLASS AT 8AM on god i might just skip since i want to drop the class anyway#but thats also MAD disrespectful.. ill just hope class ends early idk..#so yeah. terrible night. it WILL get worse.#maybe ill make eggs.... not like i can buy food. i mean i CAN but ugh i hate doing credit card payment that shit so extra#and to top it off as i was leaving the store Again some mate was liek 'excuse me sir- oh im sorry excuse me ma'am'#MY GUY I AM WEARING A SUIT AND A FACE MASK AND I HAVE SHORT HAIR STYLED LIKE A DEBATE CLUB MEMBER#YOU WERE RIGHT THE FIRST TIME I PROMISE LMAO kms. fr.#ok im done ranting SORRY. thank you for the reminder baby hedgehogs got cute as hell names..#im gonna try to think of old people to feel better...
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pinencurls · 4 years
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“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”
Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3 
Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x 
Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”
14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)
- - - - 
It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert. 
I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him.                  . . . . . 
Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni. 
Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme. 
“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room. 
“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”
“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.” 
Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun. 
Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party. 
“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates. 
“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend. 
“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.
“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”  
“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.
“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”
“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.” 
“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders. 
That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests. 
I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.
. . . . .
“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes. 
“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask. 
“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note. 
 “Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours. 
I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door. 
Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.
He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever. 
As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.
No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced. 
Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am. 
Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table. 
“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”
“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?” 
“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.” 
“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..” 
“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?” 
He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair. 
“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case. 
“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid. 
“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them. 
“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?” 
It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar. 
“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host. 
“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.” 
A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time? 
“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?” 
I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night. 
“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar. 
“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls. 
I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold. 
. . . . .
“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet. 
“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.” 
“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?” 
“No Elle, of course I don’t-” 
“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet. 
“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.” 
“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?” 
It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee. 
“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.
. . . . . 
“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.” 
We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.) 
“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.” 
Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself. 
“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?” 
Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table. 
“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.” 
“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-” 
“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.” 
“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?” 
All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room. 
“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?” 
Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode. 
“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?” 
Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus. 
“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides. 
“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head. 
“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended. 
“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both. 
“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick. 
There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following. 
“Harry?” 
“Ellie?” 
“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes. 
“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick. 
“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing. 
Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.
Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing. 
“Oh- H, Sorry!” 
Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage. 
“I’m so sorry Harry I-” 
“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!” 
Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little. 
He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different. 
In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me. 
“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back. 
Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.
. . . . . 
“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.” 
Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily. 
It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy. 
“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry. 
Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into. 
The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter. 
I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night -  incidentally beside Harry -  I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock. 
As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him. 
“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies. 
“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again. 
“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”
“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?” 
“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.” 
There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile. 
“What’s wrong?” 
He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts. 
“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.” 
I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up. 
“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one. 
“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.” 
“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?” 
“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?” 
I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket. 
“I know exactly what you mean, H.” 
The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm. 
Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again. 
“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides. 
“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit. 
“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago. 
“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore. 
“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant. 
“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?
Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser. 
“Then stay.” 
“Harry-”
“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.” 
. . . . . 
“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway. 
His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end. 
“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face. 
“And you’re almost six foot!” 
“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.” 
I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring. 
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough. 
“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.” 
The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again. 
“Mamma Mia two?” He asks. 
I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry. 
He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again. 
. . . . .
“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm. 
I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine. 
“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side. 
“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before? 
Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa. 
“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen. 
“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.” 
Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention. 
“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.
“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.” 
. . . . .  
Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all. 
In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already. 
I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all. 
Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden  doors of Blondies. 
He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner. 
“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?” 
Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him. 
“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly. 
“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”
“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?” 
“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.” 
He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say. 
“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”
Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.
“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.” 
“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”  
He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften. 
“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure. 
“How do you mean?” 
“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-” 
“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.” 
“I’m glad.” He beams.
“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry. 
Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all  rather unsuccessfully. 
“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?” 
“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?” 
“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’” 
I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing. 
“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’” 
“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?” 
“See you soon.” 
Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much. 
. . . . . 
Unknown Number 
‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’ 
I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago. 
I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone. 
‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’ 
With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up. 
Me
‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.” 
Harry
‘Read my mind love.’
‘See you in a bit :)’ 
I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all. 
. . . . . 
“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!” 
“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?” 
I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.
“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?” 
“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends. 
“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years. 
“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?” 
“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.” 
He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us. 
“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.” 
“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.
Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech. 
. . . . .
 The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches. 
“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.” 
Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me. 
“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.” 
“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?” 
“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.” 
I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood. 
“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.” 
We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens. 
“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats. 
We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition. 
. . . . . 
“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..” 
“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.” 
He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.
“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?” 
“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?” 
He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me. 
“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection. 
I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.
The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter. 
I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits. 
I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed. 
I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.
“Hi.” 
“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-” 
“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.” 
His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips. 
Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.
“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little, 
“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.” 
He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed. 
“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?” 
“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.
“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?” 
“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”
“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?” 
“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.” 
I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open. 
“That’s the plan, love.” 
. . . . . 
When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed. 
The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this. 
I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me. 
I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble: 
“Breakfast?” 
. . . . . 
Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed. 
I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes. 
“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner. 
“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares. 
“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!” 
He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him. 
“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.” 
He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands. 
“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.” 
I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion. 
“What’ve got yeh bag for?” 
“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.
“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on. 
“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-” 
“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.” 
I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space. 
“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-” 
“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.” 
I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm. 
The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start. 
“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road. 
“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”
“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums. 
“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.” 
“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road. 
“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.” 
. . . . . 
“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented. 
“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?” 
“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?” 
“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”
“And nothing’s happened?”  She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.” 
“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.” 
Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed. 
“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.” 
She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth. 
A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said. 
Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine. 
I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine. 
Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction. 
“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes. 
“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him. 
“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me. 
“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing. 
“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo. 
“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend. 
“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.” 
I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact. 
Me 
Meet me at mine x
Harry 
Okay - what was that about? 
Me 
I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor
U might have been right about the jacket :/ 
Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen. 
“Hello?” 
“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?” 
“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.” 
I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec”  before the line goes dead. 
A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly. 
“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.  
“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me. 
“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.” 
“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?” 
“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.” 
“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me. 
“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.” 
Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.
“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”
I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange. 
“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a  time I thought I could lose him. 
“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair. 
“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket. 
“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.” 
“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly. 
“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?” 
“Eleanor would have a field day.” 
Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again. 
“Oh yeah?” He teases. 
“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.” 
“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him. 
“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.” 
Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Uh huh…” 
“Really..she’d be right about that?” 
“I’m pretty sure-” 
Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep. 
“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.” 
Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder. 
“I like you too H….just a little bit.” 
“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear. 
“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession. 
A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs. 
“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.” 
. . . . .    
“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!” 
She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand. 
I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun. 
We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest  to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north. 
It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him. 
“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer. 
“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest. 
Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning. 
“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group. 
He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him. 
“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy. 
I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear. 
“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction. 
“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.
“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!” 
Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going. 
“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips. 
“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done. 
“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?” 
“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven. 
“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces. 
“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.” 
Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object. 
In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven. 
“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand. 
“Yes dear?”  
“What was that?” 
“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-” 
“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?” 
“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.” 
“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin. 
“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”
“You love me?” 
His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little. 
“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter. 
“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second. 
“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?” 
. . . . .
Hiii I hate the ending :)
Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x
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Four Musketeers pt. 1; One Day
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—The One who Never Notices—
Summary: The One who Never Notices. Your first love. Your first pain. Fred Weasley.
Words: 4,405 words
Warnings ⚠ : Just pure, raw angst, heartbreak, one sided relationship (sort of), 3 years of insufferable crush
Disclaimer: It's hard to capture 3 years worth of feelings in words. And I was surprised at it being only 4K, I could've sworn it felt like 7K or something. This is my story, based on my real life pathetic almost-love story, so please enjoy crying :) Listen to One Day too while reading, it's the best song I could find that really described my feelings towards the guy 2 years ago.
TAGLIST FOR FOUR MUSKETEERS: HERE
enjoy!
Loud giggles erupted from upstairs, you softly smiled at the sound of your daughter. Her boyfriend had come over to hang out, and she was smiling the whole day. You then heard the sound of feet stepping down the stairs, peeking your head through the kitchen to see the boy who managed to capture her heart leaving.
"Goodbye!" You bid, the young man turned and smiled politely to you; bidding goodbye as well, and left.
A while later, your teenage daughter, Dian came down; kissing your cheek as she passed you by and went to the fridge.
"That's early of him," You chirped, yet your eyes were still on the halfway sweater you're knitting at your lap. Dian smiled, "Yeah, he had some errands to do. When is Dad coming home again?"
You paused the knitting, looking at your 16-year-old child, "Around Tuesday, I think. Why? You want to sleepover at his house?"
Dian made a disgusted face and laughed, "No, I'm just asking. It's been quite a while since we've had dinner with Dad."
You nodded in understanding, your husband has been busy lately, always Apparating here and there for his job.
"Say, mum," Dian suddenly said. You hummed, the knitting continued. Although you have magic, sometimes you want to do it with your own hands, the calming after effect is just surreal.
"Can you tell me one more time about the Four Musketeers?"
She was now sitting down on one of the stools of the kitchen counter, her palms became the resting place for her chin as her elbows plopped to the surface of the counter. You chuckled in disbelief, "Darling dear, you've heard the story a thousand times now haven't you?"
She whined, "But every time you tell it, there's something new! Oh, come on mum, please!"
You scoffed in disbelief, "And what's with the 'Four Musketeers' name? As far as I remember, those boys are not musketeers." You chuckled.
Dian gave you a toothy grin, "A little nickname won't hurt. They were your high school sweethearts after all."
"Ah, Ah," You wagged a finger before her, "They were not my sweethearts, you know that. They were just... my almost love stories."
Dian rolled her eyes playfully, "Same difference, mum! Come on, tell the story please!"
You sighed, stopping the knit. With a quiet whish of your wand, the knitting equipment cleaned themselves up to the upper cabinet. With another flick of your wand, two cups of tea appeared in front of you, Dian quickly grabbed hers.
"Well, which one do you want to hear first?" You said, lazily smiling at your beautiful daughter. Dian smiled in victory, and quickly said, "From the beginning to the end, please."
You rolled your eyes playfully, a soft smile on your lips, "Oh, alright."
"The One who Never Notices it is."
— Hogwarts, 1991
You were fourteen, he was fifteen.
And at fifteen, Fred Weasley was already famous for being a cheeky prankster along with his twin brother, George. Somehow before that, you've never heard of his name before.
Being so young and naive, his wild personality had attracted your attention. It all started during the joint Potions class between the Fourth Years and the Fifth Years, due to some reasons Professor Snape made that you had no recall of.
You were assigned a temporary seat next to him on the first day of the class, to see the compatibility of the two years together. You were shy and naive, and he was cheeky and friendly.
"Hey, how are you doing? The name's Weasley, Fred Weasley." He said cheerfully with a large smile, his short red hair was heavily distracting, yet you managed to introduce yourself politely; the fear of sitting next to a senior was... big.
That was all you had as a conversation, as Snape rearranged the class back, one side was the Fourth Years, and the Fifth Years at the other.
It was the first time a senior had been so friendly to you. Especially a well-known one.
You find yourself being attracted to him, despite the lack of conversation you had. You barely knew Fred, you didn't know anything about him. But you were head over heels for the boy.
It was Christmas when you found the courage to ask him something. You were nervous the whole day long, jittery of your newfound feelings for the boy.
Fred Weasley was... in your eyes, perfect.
You found him in the Great Hall playing with his brother George, smiling widely. The smile caused a leap in your heart, and you find your hands getting sweaty.
He noticed you, and his wide smile reduced to a smaller one, "Hello there,"
You shyly smiled and cleared your throat, "Hello Fred," His grin became toothy as he heard you roll out his name, "What do you need?"
You looked down, nervous.
"Um, my mum sent me a muggle camera here as a birthday gift. So I was wondering if we could... Um..." You trailed off, the redness of your face was terribly evident.
"Oh, you want to take a picture with me?"
You looked up to him; he was a tad taller than you, and gave him a hopeful look, "If that's completely fine with you, of course."
He nodded almost instantly, his wide smile back on his lips, "Wicked! I've always wanted to see how muggle cameras work!"
You took the camera leash that was hanging around your neck and giddily explained to George what to do.
"Quite offended you didn't want to take a picture with me, eh?" George teased you, and you blushed, "You can join, of course! Really, I don't mind."
"Wicked." Was all George said before calling out his older brother, Percy Weasley; the Gryffindor prefect and briefly explained what to do.
You were placed between Fred and George, Fred at your right, and George at your left. Other students were glancing at you weirdly, unaccustomed to the camera culture.
Flashes came and you smiled, wanting to look pretty so that you can see them back home later. When Percy lowered down the camera to look at the results, you turned to the twins, "Thank you."
They smiled, "Not a problem. Say, why do you want a picture with us?"
"Um... It's for... My scrapbook! It's a journal about my school years, and knowing you two as the pranksters of Hogwarts, I need to at least have evidence I knew you two."
There was no scrapbook; although a good idea when you thought back about it.
"Brilliant! Do you mind if we have some for ourselves? Dad will be so excited to see us using muggle cameras." George said, his eyes twinkling in excitement.
You nodded profusely, wanting to please the twins to get on their good side, and possibly... get noticed by Fred. "Absolutely, go ahead. I'll owl you the prints later."
Christmas holidays went by fast, and it's school time again. You've kept your promise, and sent the prints to the Weasley house with your owl. You printed extra copies of them, blushing profusely at you and Fred, completely ignoring poor George at your other side.
Innocent love, it was.
Throughout your fifth year, whenever you bumped into Fred, you shyly waved at him, or smiled in his direction. He would surely do the same, but then that was it. You weren't sure what you were to him, are you friends? Acquaintances?
Even so, your feelings for him were strong.
The way you blush whenever you think of him, the way all of your friends knew of your big crush on him, the way whenever he walks by, you gave him your prettiest smile.
The way you were helplessly in love with a boy you barely knew. So you did something, something that you had never thought you would do.
You were fifteen, he was sixteen, when you confessed.
That day changed your life. You couldn't really say what it was that day, but it was absolutely dreadful. You couldn't even remember that day that your young heart was broken so early.
All you remember was, his face forming a frown, him taking a few steps back, him avoiding your eyes, him saying with a cold voice, "I'm not ready for a relationship."
"I'm sorry."
And him treating you differently from then on.
"I'm fine, guys, really!" You said to your friends with a wide smile when you got back to your dorm that night, but when they saw through you, your lips began to quiver and the bridge of tears began cascading down your cheeks.
From then on, you began to avoid him. Whenever you saw Fred, you would turn the other way or just pass by him like he was another student walking around the hallway.
But you knew he's not.
During the sixth month of your fifth year, you heard it. The word from student to student. The word that broke you so deeply.
"Fred Weasley and Angelina are dating!"
"I'm not ready for a relationship." His words echoed through your mind. It echoed in your mind the whole day long, you couldn't focus on the classes that day, zoning out every now and then.
You excused yourself from Professor Flitwick's class to go to the bathroom, suddenly the air in there felt stuffy and you couldn't breathe. Walking to the nearest bathroom, you kept your head down low. A headache was coming at you, looks like even your brain is tired of the echoing words of Fred Weasley.
And then you looked up. And there they are, in shining glory.
He was looking at her in pure adoration, the same look he gave you in your dreams only. A soft blush rested on his cheeks, his lips were constantly a soft smile. She was leaning against the wall, and he was in front of her. She was smiling, he was grinning.
He looked so... happy. So different from the frown on his face and the cold voice he gave you a few months ago.
So. So different.
He's not unready for a relationship, he's just not ready for a relationship with you.
Your heart plummeted to the ground, suddenly the stuffy air from Flitwick's classroom attacked you in the middle of the hallway. You bit your tongue hard, not wanting to show them your vulnerable side, if they noticed you anyway.
Your feet that were glued onto the ground just a few seconds ago moved backwards. Similar to when Fred walked a few steps back that day.
You couldn't cry, you couldn't find the strength to do so.
It hurt.
It hurt but you couldn't cry.
You... You felt numb.
Leaving the hallway behind, you began walking. And walking. The pain in your heart turned into anger. Slowly, shifting the sadness in your heart into pure anger towards the tall ginger.
'He hurt me. He lied to me. He played me.'
The pace of your walk quickened. You were walking, then jogging, then in full speed running across the hallway. You didn't care where your legs took you, you just ran.
You ran, and ran, and ran until your legs gave out. An abandoned classroom right in front of you. You entered without a second wasted, quickly casting on a silencing charm to make the room soundproof.
And you scream.
You screamed and screamed and screamed until your throat hurt. You kicked every single abandoned desk there was, throwing your anger and stress towards the static objects.
And when your throat croaked in pain, that's when the urge to cry resurfaced.
At fifteen, you cried for a boy who you barely knew, but you dearly loved.
You didn't realize you've spent a few hours there, so when you got out of the classroom, it was already dark. So you walked back to your common room with aching legs, bloated eyes, and a heavy, but lighter than before heart.
Took you a few weeks, really, to get used to seeing Fred and Angelina everywhere attached by the hip to each other. Whenever they're around, your friends would shoot you a glance, making sure you're okay. You would usually glance at the couple, shrugged, and continued laughing with your friends.
It still hurt, you're just better at hiding it.
Halloween came along and Hogwarts did a Halloween party where everyone dressed up as something. You were the photographer of the night, bringing the muggle camera.
That same camera from Christmas.
You shrugged off the thought and began your work. Quite a lot of people actually threw their best efforts into their outfits. Oliver Wood dressed as a zombie Quidditch player, his makeup was done quite nicely.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione dressed as the Three Musketeers with their cute fake swords and fake mustaches. You took plenty of pictures of them fooling around, it was fun on your part as well.
While taking pictures of Neville being a scarecrow, someone called you through the loud music. You looked around and saw George waving at you.
You walked to him, smiling at his Frankenstein's monster outfit, "Do you want me to take a picture of you?" You offered, and he nodded before he furrowed his eyebrows at you, "Oh hey, you're the one from Christmas last year!"
You smiled, although a bit bitterly this time, "Yes, that's me."
"Dad was fascinated by the pictures, by the way, thanks a lot!" George said, smiling the whole time. Your smile became more genuine and shook your head, "It's nothing, really. Do you want me to take pictures of you, Mr. Frankenstein?" You chuckled at your little joke and he laughed a bit as well.
"Absolutely, let me call Fred for a bit. He's dressing as Dr. Frankenstein!" He said excitedly and turned around, your smile drained so fast. You quickly put on your Grim Reaper mask to hide your face.
There is no bloody way you're going to let him see you.
Wait.
Why are you hiding?
You blinked. You've done nothing wrong to him, it's just a confession and he rejected you, so what? Everyone gets rejected once in a while, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like you'll be tossed to Azkaban if you show yourself.
'Huh, make sense.' You thought as you pulled back the mask to the top of your head. You're right, you've done nothing wrong. It's not like you'll fall for him again once you saw his face-
Oh Bloody Merlin.
Fred Weasley came into your vision, smiling widely to his brother. He was dressed up as Dr. Frankenstein, with his hair dyed black and spiked and he had goggles on the top of his head, wearing the white scientist suit with black rubber gloves and boots.
Your breath stopped. It's been a while since you've properly seen him, courtesy to avoiding to look at him ever since the incident.
You snapped away your thoughts fast, putting on your professional stance as the school's photographer.
"Here he is!" George said and smiled at you, frowning slightly at the sight of you looking a little pale. Fred trailed his eyes to you, the smile on his lips drained as well. Yet he quickly put on a small smile, "Hello,"
You looked at Fred in confusion, did he just say hello to you? Whatever, let's get this over with. "Alright, strike a pose, you two."
Several pictures were taken of them being completely silly and you laughed at their demeanor. "Oh, wait! Angelina!" George said loudly, and your laughter paused rather quickly.
Angelina came in the shot and similar to her name, she was dressed as a beautiful angel, with a bowstring at her back, so you assumed she's dressing up as Cupid.
Suddenly, you were self-conscious of your Grim Reaper outfit. In all honesty, it was just a long black robe that trails to the ground a few inches with a large hood. Your fake synth was right beside you, holding it still under your armpit.
"Come take a picture with us!" George said, and Fred somehow noticed you were becoming uncomfortable, "Maybe not now-"
You shook your head, snapping away from the self-consciousness, "It's alright, the more the merrier." Fred watched you silently and nodded, his lips quickly painting a soft smile as Angelina kissed him on the cheek.
This is what you hate about Fred. He's too kind, sometimes way too kind until you misinterpret what he does to you. Like just now, who the fuck does that to the person they know liked them?
They posed a few times, most of the time, it's just George third-wheeling Fred and Angelina, making you feel quite sorry for the boy. Hell, you felt like you were fourth-wheeling and hurting at the same time.
After the flashes ended, Angelina spoke, "Do you wanna have a picture with these boys? I can take it for you."
You were about to politely decline when suddenly George said, "What a brilliant idea! It'll be just like Christmas last year!"
Well.
So there you were, at the center of the picture again, between the twins again. You hesitantly looked up to Fred, and he looked down at you with a small smile.
Sigh, always too nice.
You looked away and smiled for the camera. George was having his fun time posing while you and Fred were awkward the whole time. After it ended, you thanked Angelina and walked away when suddenly a voice called for your name.
It was him.
You turned around, and he was quite far from you, like a meter or two when he said, "I'll see you around, yeah?"
You shrugged and gave him a small smile, "Maybe."
At fifteen, you had mixed feelings towards Fred.
It's an on-and-off relationship really, but on your side only. There would be a period of time where you absolutely despised him, talking shit about him to your friends at every chance you get. You would convince yourself you were over him so many times.
And then there would be times where you were helplessly in love with him, even when you're well aware of his strong relationship with Angelina. You were genuinely believing that what you felt was love.
It was bloody confusing.
And how it went on until your sixth year, was beyond you.
By the time you reached sixteen, you had understood the circumstances of your feelings. You didn't care if he didn't notice you, as long as he's happy, you're happy for him. The aching in your heart had become so frequent, that you had become numb to it . At this point, you were just hoping for some other boy to come and swoop you up, saving you from this one-sided relationship with Fred Weasley.
3 years, wasted on a boy who barely knows you. At this point, your friends were tired of you and him. They would just nod and say the same thing, "Like someone else, and he'll be gone."
And so you tried. But Bloody Fred Weasley made it hard for anyone else to top him. Every Time you saw another suitable boy, all they reminded you of was Fred.
How his freckles decorated his face like countless numbers of stars to the sky, how his eyelashes were obnoxiously beautiful and long for a male, how his confidence on his long hair made you wonder of many things, how his lips etch the wide smile whenever he did pranks or laugh with his friends.
Whenever his brown eyes sometimes resembled a pool of warm honey when glazed with the sunshine rays.
Fred Weasley was excruciatingly a pain in the ass. And he doesn't even know it.
You were sixteen, he was seventeen, when he left.
You heard news of Fred and George quitting school suddenly, something about the desire of opening their own joke shop. You had mixed feelings of course, you didn't want him to go, yet at the same time, you do.
Maybe with him gone, you would get over him easier. 3 years being stuck on feelings for a guy who rejected you two years ago wasn’t the best feeling.
You quietly looked away when you saw Fred passionately kissing Angelina goodbye from afar. The poor girl had tears in her eyes, yet she was smiling to support him. He hopped on the broom, lingered on the air for a bit to stare at Angelina for a while, before leaving Hogwarts forever.
He's gone. And you weren't sure what to feel about it. The sting inside your chest wasn't helping either.
"Fred." You called out his name, the way it rolled out your tongue so easily familiarly tingles your heart. The tall ginger turned around and smiled, "Hello there."
"I need to tell you something," You said, you weren't nervous at all. You were confident, the main goal was just to let out everything, so you can be free out of his grasp.
He had you around his finger, and he barely noticed it.
"Well, let it out then," He said, smiling down at you. "You remember two years ago? Where I confessed and you rejected me?" You began. He nodded, the smile was still intact on his lips as if you're asking about the bloody weather. "Yeah?"
"I'm still not over you. I'm in love with you, Fred Weasley. I am so, deeply, and helplessly in love with you." You smiled as you breathed out the words. The cage you had contained on your chest for years was finally open, and you felt all the old butterflies flying free out of you.
Fred pursed his lips, his eyebrows furrowing, "... You know I love Angelina." He said quietly, seemingly not wanting to hurt your feelings any further. You find your eyes watering, yet you felt no remorse or pain. Were those happy tears? You don't know, but you don't mind it.
"I know. And you two are perfect for each other. I've already accepted that you'll never love me the way I love you, Freddie. I accept that you'll never see me as beautiful as the way I see you. I accept that you'll never describe me in such poetic words the way I describe you. I accept that you'll never smile whenever I was mentioned in the conversation the way I smile when you're in the talk," You paused to wipe your tears off your cheeks, Fred just watching you letting it all out on him, watching as your shoulders got lighter, and your smile got wider.
"And I accept that I'm not your first love as you are mine."
Fred quietly watched you, his soft smile gave a pleasant feeling to you. He slowly reached out to you, wrapping his arms around you.
You waste no time to hug him back, how for so many years you yearned what it would feel like to have his arms around your waist, or his hand on the back of your head, or his chin on your shoulder.
"Thank you," Was all he whispered in your ear, as he let you go, yet his hands still on your arms, "I suppose this would be the time I let you go now?"
You chuckled, wiping your tears off, "Please do, I can't keep loving you, Fred. It bloody hurts." You teasingly said, with a tinge of truth. He chuckled along.
Slowly, Fred reached out his hand, and with a soft voice and doe eyes, he spoke for the last time, "The name's Weasley. Fred Weasley."
You smiled, and shook his hand, "Pleasure."
You woke up. And then tears came along. And the sobs.
You were shaking, crying so hard your roommates woke up in a groggy state. When they found you crying, they hugged you so tight, feeling helpless on how to help you.
You were crying, but the wide smile on your lips was evident.
You were sixteen, he was seventeen, when you said goodbye.
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"Wow," Was all Dian could say. She had heard this story so many times before, but it took her breath every time.
"Why didn't you stop loving him, mum? He hurt you so much before he left. " She asked.
You shrugged and sighed, "I was sixteen, Dian. And he was my first love. It's the first time I had ever felt heavily for a boy like that."
Dian sighed, "You can't say it's first love when he doesn't love you back, mum. Blimey, he doesn't even know you."
You snorted, "It doesn't have to be reciprocal for first love to happen, darling. You just... Know it's first love. No matter how much you mean to the other person."
Dian tched, pouring down another cup of warm tea, "It's still not fair on your side. 3 years aren't a short time. And the fact that he didn't even notice!" Dian rolled her eyes in frustration, feeling sorry for you.
"No, I think he noticed. Like you said, 3 years are not a short time." You smile gently, looking down to your empty cup. The residue tea leaves in the cup reminded you of Trelawney's class many years ago.
Dian widened her eyes, "So he knew this whole time? That you were in love with him? And he never said a thing?!"
You chuckled, "What was he supposed to say, sweetheart? He's already in love with someone else, you know that."
Dian was growing angry at the man, "That's the point, mum! He knew what it's like to be in love, so he knew how you felt and he never came forward to say anything!" Her voice was becoming louder than before, the urge to protect her mother was stronger than ever.
You laughed at her anger, in your eyes she looked adorable, "Calm down, Dian. We were teenagers. We can't possibly think of everything, we were still growing. I don't blame him for anything, he taught me so many things and he didn't even know he was doing it."
Dian groaned, "Mum, you need to stop looking at everything in a bright direction."
You chuckled, having no response to that. Pouring yourself another cup of tea, you said with a soft voice, "I guess you could say The One who Never Noticed is wrong." Dian raised an eyebrow, "How so?"
You sighed in content at the warm liquid entering your system, and you smiled at your daughter, "He should be The One who Never Cared."
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Four Musketeers pt. 2; Heather : COMING SOON!
TAGLIST:
@truly-insatiable @sophiecalifragilistics @weasleysangel @sarcasticallywitty15 @off-brand-overhaul @hunnybunimdun @slytherinbth
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amor-immortalem · 3 years
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My Adoring Fan Chapter 6
Chapter 5
Before he knew it, a week had passed. It was the start of a new school term. As Aurelius rolled out of bed, he shut off the alarm so it wouldn’t go off at its normal time. He didn’t sleep well the night before, not because he was excited to return to his studies but more like he was debating if he should really betray his parents’ trust when it came to meeting with this girl who’d sent him the letter. If he was being honest, the half demon was hoping that the letter was forged.
Ever since he’d met her that night, Aurelius often found his thoughts wandering back to her. He wasn’t lying when he told his sister that he thought she was pretty. No one had ever had this effect on the sixteen-year-old before so why was she so different?
“I don’t have time to think on this any longer.” He sighed. “Maybe some tea will take my mind off things?” The half-demon makes his way out to the kitchen and is only slightly surprised to see his mother in the kitchen already making herself some tea. He doesn’t know why, but he still figured she’d be asleep at four a.m. like a normal person.
“Aurelius, good morning. Why’re you up so early?” Arella asks as she sets the kettle on the stove. “You should go back to sleep for a bit.”
“No, I’m good, Mum. I can’t really sleep all that well anyway. Can I have some tea?”
“Sure. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yeah, I guess that couldn’t hurt...” He lays his arms on the counter as he’s leaning against it, chin resting on top of his arms. “Or maybe this is something I should talk to Dad about? I don’t know...”
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was one of those things...”
“No, no, no,” He waves his hands about as a blush covers his cheeks, reaching down to his neck and up to his ears, “It’s not about that kind of thing. More like... relationship advice? Girls in general? I don’t know.” Arella only laughed softly as her son let out a groan. “Please don’t laugh, Mum.”
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” Arella sighed as she pulled the kettle off the stove and got two cups down for them, “I wasn’t laughing at you, more like the misunderstanding. If you feel more comfortable talking to Dad about this then that’s fine, but you know you can talk to me about relationships or girls too as well, right? I’ve had more than my fair share of relationships with women as well so I think I can provide some helpful insight too.”
“Yeah... It’s about that girl I met the other day. You know, the one who I can’t be sure sent me that letter?”
“Yes. She hasn’t tried to contact you again, has she?”
“No, but it’s just.... I can’t stop thinking about that little bit of time we interacted. I’ve never really given much thought to anyone I’ve ever met before but she still sticks in my mind for some reason. Is there something wrong with me?”
“No, not at all. It’s perfectly normal to have someone on your mind at this age.”
“So... there was something wrong with me before then?”
“No, that’s not true either. You’re perfectly normal, Son. Some people just aren’t interested in things like that and that’s okay too. What worries me is who this girl is. You don’t know all that much about her and the fact that she may have sent you that letter doesn’t bode very well. It makes me worried for you.”
“If we have classes together at RAD, I’ll have to talk to her since she’ll likely take a seat next to me at some point and I have a reputation to uphold- well more like I don’t want to be rude. And I kind of want to talk to her too. If she was a fan, she pretended not to be and it makes me wonder if she was being considerate since I nearly trampled her trying to get away from ‘Zalea. She was... normal. I’ve never gotten that from someone outside of our family.”
“Well,” Arella slid the teacup toward Aurelius. “I can’t stop you from talking to this girl. You seem rather dead set on it too. But please, for the love of your grandfather, don’t go off with her alone.
“’for the love of my grandfather,’ why do you guys always say that? It’s not just you and dad but my uncles too. What’s with that? I’ve always thought it was a weird saying. And Max says something similar. Are they related?”
“Yeah, they are. You see, your Father and Uncles- save for Uncle Satan- were once angels a long, long time ago. All angels are “created” by God so technically he would be considered your grandfather as everyone in our family still refers to him as ‘Father’.”
Aurelius nods, “Oh, Alright. I always just thought Dad had always been a demon... but wait don’t you have distant heritage from the Celestial Realm too? That’s where you and I get our magic from, right?”
“It’s… messy. Technically, the angel I’m descended from was reincarnated into a human and Angels aren’t actually related by blood to begin with in the way you’re related to your siblings so really, it was anything goes when it came to me- genetically speaking that is.” Arella was skirting around her connection to Lilith as much as she could as they hadn’t yet told any of the kids in the family about this kind of thing. “I really wouldn’t think too hard on it if I were you. It’ll give you a headache.” The boy only nodded as he sipped on his tea. He had never seen his mother trying so hard to skirt around something she didn’t want him to know. “Anywho, are you hungry? I can start on breakfast.
“Yeah, thanks. I can help if you want.”
“Thank you, that sounds lovely.”
“Also... Can I have that letter back...”
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Getting up and dressed for school was difficult for Persephone. Ever since she’d overheard her dormmates snickering about the letter they’d forged and sent to Aurelius, she’d been dreading the idea of seeing him at school. She wanted to get to know him but now he was probably going to avoid her at all costs. As she looked herself over in the mirror, she hoped he hadn’t put two and two together yet or that the impression she made on him that day would be enough to tip him off that something was wrong.
Instead of having breakfast with her dormmates, the succubus just headed out for school. She was too nervous to actually keep anything down. She kept looking around, Persephone was hoping to spot the object of her affections. And then she saw them, the three girls that he lived with at the House of Lamentation: his sister, cousin, and a sorcerer-in-training that had come to stay with them. But Aurelius was nowhere to be seen.
Persephone moved to trail just behind them, just far enough away to not look like she was eavesdropping but close enough to be able to hear their conversation.
“A new term, a new start!” Zulima smiles as she stretches. “It sucks that I’m grounded. What I wouldn’t kill to go out shopping after school for skin care products. There’s a new line I’ve been interested in trying that comes out today.”
“Hey, that’s all on you, Missy!” Azalea grumbled. “And what’s worse ya got my brother booted out of the dorm and grounded too for doin’ your dirty work.”
Zulima squawked at that as she threw her arms around her cousin. “That wasn’t my intention though! I said I was sowwy.”
“Hey, hey, hey none of that cutesy shit, got it? Cut it out.”
Zulima pouted at that as Max laughed softly.
“Come on, Zulima, you have to admit that you were in the wrong even though it all panned out in the end.” The human smiles.
“MAX!”
“Huh? Oh shit- Sorry, Sunshine, it slipped.”
“Wait... Wait did my plan actually work?” The silver-haired girl’s eyes lit up. “It did, didn’t it?! Stars, I have to tell Daddy.” The sixteen-year-old dashed off.
“Zulima stop! Don’t- aaaaand she’s gone...” The half-demon only sighs,” Damn, what are we gonna do with her...? You know we’ve just unleashed a monster, right? She’s gonna tell everyone.”
“Yeah, I mean we could just go public with it ourselves. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“Well, no, under normal circumstances it wouldn’t, but I still have enemies at school. Sure, it's no secret that you’re important ta me but if our classmates knew we were datin’, they’d go after you ta get ta me. I know you’ve been workin’ on improvin’ your magic and Solomon even gave ya that charm that’ll mostly protect ya from most attacks from demons but it still makes me nervous since I take advanced courses while the rest of y’all take regular classes and I can’t be with ya ‘cept for homeroom and lunch. I mean my family can know, that’s all well ‘n good. They all like ya anyway but the reason I didn’t want Zulima knowin’ is that when it comes to secrets, she’s got the loosest set of lips this side of the human world...”
“Aww thanks for being worried about me,” She slung an arm around Azalea as they walked.
The white and black-haired girl stiffened slightly. Even after a year, she still wasn’t really used to someone outside of the family showing her any kind of public displays of affection, platonic or otherwise.
“Sorry, are you uncomfortable?”
“N-no. I like it. Don’t stop. Anyway, love, we should go. Aurelius is waitin’ for us.” The half-demon’s voice was quiet as they kept going.
Watching from a safe distance, Persephone laughed softly. Azalea had a reputation for being an unapproachable tough girl so to see her being so soft with a human was interesting. She wondered if she could manage to get close to his older sister and her girlfriend, she might be able to get close to Aurelius. Was it wrong to use Azalea for her own purposes? Yes, and Persephone knew that but if the letter was still a factor, she had to prove that she didn't mean him any harm.
Hurrying to school, she thought of a way to introduce herself to the girls ahead of her. What she wasn’t expecting was to bump into Azalea and fall on her face.
“Hey, watch where yer goin’!” Azalea growled as she puffed out her chest, that tough girl front making its first appearance for the day. “Ya almost knocked me over.”
“Azalea, be nice. Are you okay, Miss?”
“Sorry, I thought I had more room. I didn’t mean to bump into you and yeah, I’m alright. Thanks for asking.”
“Whatever, just make sure it don’t happen again, got it?” Azalea's blue to gold gradient eyes studied her appearance. “You go to RAD? I ain’t never seen ya around before. You new here?”
“Ah, yes. I just transferred here. Today’s my first day.” Persephone smiled as she held out her hand.
Max reached out to shake her hand and Azalea thought about stopping her but that might not be a good idea. As she regarded Persephone, an eyebrow raised slowly, remembering what her brother told her about the girl he was unsure had sent that letter.
“What’s yer name, girly? I heard about a transfer student from my brother. That you?”
Persephone’s eyes widened. He talked about her? How does she answer? Does she tell the truth or does she lie? Ultimately, the succubus nodded deciding the truth was best.
“Stay away from my brother, got it? Yer gonna regret it if I find out about ya harassin’ him. He already gets enough of that and you don’t need to addin’ to that. He’s already thinkin’ about quittin’ the one thing he loves ‘cuz of crazy fans like you.”
Max could sense that Azalea was getting more and more worked up. Before the situation could get out of hand, she grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and drug her off so she didn’t do something she’d regret later.
Well that option was out. As they walked off, Azalea turned her head back toward Persephone with a warning glare. The former idol knew now she had to set things straight. She knew what it was like to have crazy fans too.
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Homeroom was the first class of the day, having been dropped off by his mother, Aurelius was able to get prime seating at the back of the class where the teacher could hardly see him and therefore wouldn’t call on him if they thought he wasn’t paying attention. He pulled out that letter, waiting for Persephone to show up. They were all in the same year and there was only one homeroom teacher for their year so every student in their year- advance courses included- had the same homeroom hour.
The teen watches the door with baited breath.
“I hope this is the right room.” She mumbled. When her eyes met his she looked away. They were the only two in the class room.
“Hey again.” He smiled, using his charm to his advantage. “Come here, I’d like to speak with you.” She was a little hesitant to begin with but ultimately, she decided to sit with him. “So...” Aurelius slides the letter over to her. “I want you to tell me the truth. Did you actually lie to me when we met last week? Did you really know who I was all along and still chose to lie to me?”
Persephone stared at the letter with horror. “Y-Yeah. I just didn’t want you to feel bad about knocking over a fan of yours...”
“Thought so, well thanks for thinking of my feelings. That was considerate of you. And by the look on your face, I take it you recognize what on the table.”
“I didn’t send this letter. It was forged by a dormmate of mine.” The former idol panicked about losing her one chance at getting closer to him.
“Mhm... Well, I’d believe it. And I think I know who sent it. Would you like to read it and tell me if anything in it is actually true?”
“Your sister told me you’re getting harassed.... I’m sorry you have to go through that.” she said as she nodded.
“You’ve already run in to ‘Zalea, huh? She didn’t say anything or threaten you, did she?”
“She told me to stay away from you or I’d regret it. Should I move before she gets here?”
“No don’t. I called you over here because I wanted you to sit with me. You’re going to end up with a few of my self-proclaimed ‘super fans’ nipping at your heels though. Just ignore them, alright? And if my sister tries to start anything, let me handle her.”
“Okay, also... this letter is really creepy but a couple things are true... I do have all of your issues of DevilStyle Teen and I am a big fan. But I want to get to know you. I know there’s more to a person than what you see in a magazine. Would that be alright?”
He’s surprised at this, but it was a welcome surprise. “Yeah sure. I’m kind of grounded at the moment, but we can hang out here in the morning and talk. The teacher unlocks it at 6 a.m. so meet me then. After I’m out of punishment, we can hang out outside of school too. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in getting to know you as well. Also, stop trying to charm me. It’s not going to work. Like my mother, charms don’t work on me.”
The succubus blushed as she sputtered apologies and a deep embarrassed blush covered her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized she was using her powers on him- the same powers that skyrocketed her to fame as an idol.
He only chuckled at that. “If you really want to earn my affections, you’re going to have to put in the hard work.” He teased.
“G-Good to know.” She squeaked as other students began to enter and she and Aurelius began to chat casually.
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official-weasley · 3 years
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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 6
PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 6 - Christmas Weasley
Nova
It was the last week of October and I think it's safe to say that we finally got used to doing homework and all the professors. Tulip and I are proud to say that it has been 13 days since we last got lost on our way to lessons.
Now that we went through all the subjects a couple of times and it feels more real since we don't have any more introductions in classes, I have to say that I was surprised how well I was doing in Charms. When we did the Levitation Charm I was the first to get the feather flying almost to the ceiling. I also managed to cast Lumos on my first try and so far have been so good that I've earned Ravenclaw 35 points in just that class.
Tulip wasn't doing that bad in Charms either, even though she was beating us all in Astronomy, for which we later found out that her uncle is an Astronomer and has been teaching her since she was 5.
Penny, of course, was exceeding in Potions, something not even Snape could deny. She knew the answer to every one of his questions and when we finally had to brew our first potion, she had to help all three of us not to blow up half of the Dungeons.
History of Magic was still as dull as ever, something even Penny couldn't deny as Tonks told us one day, having dinner, that she was drooling on her notes, after falling asleep in the middle of the lesson. Penny denied the accusation and said that she was just resting her head because she stayed up all night working on her Transfiguration homework.
Speaking of Transfiguration, it is by far my favorite subject! I had no idea how I will do in the class and what exactly was expected from us as every time I saw Professor McGonagall she seemed so strict. I wasn't wrong about that as she gave detention to Tulip the first time she came in class 5 minutes late because she was confident she could find the classroom on her own and get one more piece of toast instead of going with me.
Because I was one of the first to arrive in class, I sat down in the second row on the right side and after a couple of Gryffindors came in I spotted the redhead immediately.
“Nova! I forgot we had this class together!” Charlie sat next to me without even asking if the seat was taken.
“Isn't Jae going to be mad if you don't sit next to him?” I knew now that the boy Charlie was spending the most time with was Jae Kim, a fellow First Year with whom Charlie also shared his dormitory. It was getting quite annoying sending notes across class to each other in subjects we had together so I didn't mind Charlie sitting next to me.
Besides, I wanted to prove to Tulip that she should've gone with me to class.
“Nah, we can't be together all the time and besides I want to spend more time with you.” He grinned at me. “And if it happens that you're good at Transfiguration I can benefit from it as well.” He was taking a couple of pieces of parchment out of his bag.
Perhaps Charlie was going to be great at Divination if he decides to take the subject as I was indeed amazing in Transfiguration. At first, I thought I was just lucky when I transfigured a matchstick into a needle perfectly. Then it also happened with the quill which was in perfect condition transformed from a fork.
Charlie was in awe at first and was excited that I was going to be the one who helps him with his Transfiguration homework. Much to his and Tulip's disappointment, I've made them do the homework in the Library on their own. However, I was with them all the time and I did check and correct it when they were done with it.
After I also cast Revelio correctly on my second try, Professor McGonagall made me stay after class one day to talk about having Advanced Classes in my Second Year if my talent would continue to grow. I accepted at once and I couldn't wait to tell my mum as Transfiguration was one of her favorite subjects as well.
We didn't do any practical magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts yet, but we have learned about a lot of dangerous creatures which Charlie and I always discussed after class.
The day after the 'slug incident' as Tulip liked to call it, I woke up very early as I kept thinking about how I have to finish my drawing of Pip. I decided to get out of bed and go down for breakfast alone. I knew I could bring Pip with me so I thought I could finish the drawing while munching on my toast.
I went to the Owlery and for the first time, I had to actually wake Pip up and he wasn't so happy to see me as he wished to sleep for a little while longer. Nonetheless, he gave in to my strokes on his head and hopped on my arm. Together we made way to the Great Hall which was practically deserted except for a couple of Ravenclaws that were half asleep and looked like they were studying for their O.W.L.s.
I put some jelly on my toast and opened my notebook.
“Now, where were we Pip?” I took out one of my pencils. I started working on the feathers again and was quite happy with the progress I was able to make since Pip was too tired to peek at his portrait.
“Good morning, Nova.” I heard a really sleepy voice say behind me.
“Mind if I sit next to you?” Charlie asked, sitting down before I could even answer him. I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw what a mess his red hair was.
“Good morning. What are you doing up already?” I helped myself to another piece of toast, while Pip was trying to get some of the crumbs left behind from my last one.
“We got a lot of homework yesterday by Professor Snape and I better get on it before I forget.” He shuffled a few spoons of cereal into his bowl. “Name and describe seven differences between the Wiggenweld Potion and Blood Replenishing Pooo...tion.” He yawned.
“Seven differences, what did you do to Snape?” I gasped.
“How did you know we managed to destroy a cauldron?” He poured milk over his cereal now.
“I didn't, I just thought you had to do something wrong since we only got three differences.” I put more jelly on my toast as I decided one thick layer wasn't enough. “And how did you manage to destroy a cauldron on your first lesson? We weren't even working with them?”
“Well, one of the Slytherins wanted to show off by performing the Fire Making Charm under the cauldron and it exploded.”
“A cauldron exploded, where?” Penny interrupted my laughing. She had a concerned look on her face. She was followed by Tonks who looked as if Penny woke her up so abruptly that she will never recover.
They didn't even sit down properly when Tulip came running to our table, panting.
“I...thought...I...missed...breakfast.” She said, trying to catch her breath.
“Tulip you have got to get a watch.” Penny chuckled.
“And who is this red-haired laddie?” Tonks reminded me that I haven't introduced Charlie to them yet.
“Oh, right! Sorry, Charlie. Tonks, Tulip, Penny this is Charlie. The boy I told you about yesterday. Charlie this are Tonks, Tulip and Penny.”
“Nice to meet you!” They exclaimed as they each shook his hand.
“Do you mind if he seats with us?” I asked, not knowing if they would be bothered by having breakfast with a boy.
“Get off it! He's one of us now.” Said Tonks while stuffing a huge piece of toast in her mouth. Charlie couldn't help but blush a little.
“Say, Charlie, Penny is really good at potions, perhaps she can help you with your homework.” I said while trying to make Pip, now completely awake, to be still.
“Homework, Potions homework?! What do you need?” Penny was so excited about what I just said that I thought she was going to scare Charlie away from our table.
He just chuckled and told her all about the cauldron, for which of course she scolded him as if it was his fault and then helped him with his homework so much that he was done before the beginning of the first class.
On Halloween, the girls and I decided to visit Hagrid and take him up on his offer of rock cakes and tea. We loved how beautiful the whole school was, now decorated in candles, spider webs and there were pumpkins everywhere.
We made our way down to Hagrid's hut, announced of course, with a letter Pip took to Hagrid one day prior. Hagrid was delighted that we were going to visit him and told us to come down after breakfast. Even though it was Wednesday, the lessons were canceled for the Halloween celebration which was happening at dinner.
Once Hagrid's hut was visible, we could see he has decorated it with webs and there were pumpkin patches all around it.
We knocked on his door and could hear a bark, which could only have come from a really small puppy. When Hagrid opened the door, a soft grin on his face, Penny got knocked down to the floor by Fang to which we got introduced after we helped Penny get up.
We promised ourselves not to say anything about Hagrid's rock cakes as indeed they were hard as rocks and kept making excuses that we have to save ourselves for dinner. Tea, however, we didn't mind and we drank about 5 kettles of it. Hagrid told us all about why he is living on the Grounds and he couldn't stop saying nice things about our Headmaster Dumbledore as he was very grateful for the position he gave him at the school.
It was almost time for the dinner celebration in the Great Hall when I had to wake Fang, who fell asleep on my lap because I couldn't stop scratching him behind his ear. He got off me not very happy about it and we thanked Hagrid for the tea and the cakes and ran up to our Houses to change, our stomachs growling as we didn't eat much at Hagrid's.
The feast was even greater than the one we had on our first day at Hogwarts. Of course, Tulip and I were a bit bummed as Tonks and Penny couldn't join us. For bigger celebrations and events, students had to sit at their House Table.
When the feast officially ended and a lot of students left the Great Hall we could finally be joined again. Charlie also sat down next to me, looking a bit blue.
“What's wrong, Charlie?” I asked while Tonks was still nibbling on a chicken leg.
“It's my birthday in December and this is going to be the first time I spend it on my own. Of course, I have my brother Bill...”
“And us!” Penny interrupted him. I could already see her planning a birthday party for him.
“Wait, your birthday is in December?” I finally looked away from Penny's cheering face.
“Yeah, why?” Said Charlie a bit cheered up.
“My birthday's in December too. When exactly is yours?” I asked.
“The 12th.” Charlie said surprised.
“Hers is on the 14th!” Penny showed excitement for me.
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun! You two can celebrate birthdays together!” Said Tulip, mimicking Penny. I chuckled as I knew she was only doing so to mock her.
“Wicked, I would love to!” We were all so excited that Charlie completely forgot he was sad about not having his family here for his birthday.
“Why don't we go down to Hagrid's and celebrate there?”
“Oh, that's a great idea, Tonks! Nobody will bother us and we can have some of Hagrid's delicious tea.” Penny applauded Tonks.
“You guys are friends with Hagrid as well?” Charlie beamed.
“We just met him today officially but he is amazing and so nice. How do you know him?” I said while putting the finishing touches on my Pip portrait.
“Oh, I have been going there since the first week. Ever since I saw he has a puppy. How adorable is Fang?” We all nodded in agreement. “And he is giving me all these amazing books about animals and he promised me to take me into the Forbidden Forest next year. I keep trying to persuade him to take me this year but he reckons I'm too young and we could both get in trouble.” Charlie sighed.
“That settles it then.” Penny said slowly as I could see she was debating in her head why would anyone in their right mind want to go to the Forbidden Forest of their own free will. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get Charlie alone to ask him to owl me as soon as Hagrid agrees to take him, as I would love to join them.
“We just have to figure out how to bring some of our own food, since Hagrid's rock cakes aren't the best to, well, chew on.” Charlie clutched his lips as if his teeth were still hurting from biting into Hagrid's cakes. We all chuckled in agreement.
“I think Tonks and I can handle that one.” Said Tulip proudly.
I scribbled a message for Hagrid on a piece of parchment and gave it to Pip. However, he refused to go before I showed him his portrait.
“Alright, alright. Here you go.” I turned the notebook to him. He tilted his head for almost 90 degrees and stared at it for a couple of seconds. Tonks and Tulip who were on the other side of the table looked as well. When Pip hooted in agreement that he likes how I portrayed him, I turned the notebook to Penny and Charlie who felt left out for seeing it last.
“Another brilliant drawing, Nova.” Complimented Charlie.
“You are so talented. I wish I could draw like this.” Penny said, disappointed.
“You can't have both a pretty handwriting and know how to draw.” Tonks rolled her eyes playfully at her.
“She's right, you do have pretty handwriting.” Charlie said, half to himself as he was copying some of Penny's Potions notes. Penny couldn't hide the blush on her cheeks so she pretended to talk to Pip.
My birthday has always been amazing but nothing compared to the one I had with my friends at Hogwarts. As planned, we all gathered at Hagrid's on my birthday after we finished our lessons on Friday.
Charlie and I almost got into a fight as we couldn't decide when to celebrate. I was quite alright with celebrating my birthday on his birthday so that he wouldn't have to wait for two more days, while he insisted that it would be rude to me not to celebrate my birthday properly and that his birthday was in the middle of the week anyway and was more convenient to do it on my birthday which was on Friday. I agreed after Charlie didn't want to hear another word about it. He even waited until Friday to open all the presents his family has sent him. Of course, we also invited his brother Bill, who was delighted to accept the invitation and was very happy to see Charlie was finally doing well and finding more friends.
We had so much fun that night at Hagrid's. We drank tea and ate so much food which we later found out Tonks and Tulip smuggled from the Kitchens. Of course, they didn't want to tell us how they got in and kept giggling instead, every time we asked them.
Fang was rather conflicted as Charlie and I fought who was going to pet him next but he didn't complain at all when we finally agreed that sitting in front of the fire, both scratching him at the same time wasn't so bad either.
Even though Hagrid's rock cakes stayed untouched, he surprised Charlie and me with a birthday cake. It had 13 candles on it, pink frosting, and Happee Birthdae Charlie and Nova scribbled on it. Charlie and I each went on one side of the cake, looked at each other, closed our eyes, and blew our candles.
I've made a wish to always have such an amazing time with my friends as my First Year at Hogwarts has been nothing but great so far.
It was then time for us to open presents. Charlie got a jumper with the letter C on it from his mum. A bag full of candy and firecrackers from his twin brothers Fred and George. Something that Penny named a Rubber Duck from his dad, with a note attached that he should see if it floats on the Black Lake and a brand new edition of From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guide from Bill, for which Charlie jumped up so much that Hagrid's hut shook a little and we all laughed.
Tonks and Tulip gave Charlie a scarf with a Dragon embroidered on it. Penny gave him a book on Potions for easier understanding and I gave him a book I've made myself. I called it Fantastic Dragons and How to Train Them. Inside were my drawings of every known species of Dragons and descriptions of the most important details to know of each breed.
It seemed I've made everyone speechless, as they were staring at the book, while Charlie was slowly turning the pages, as his cheeks became slightly pink. He then put the book down and gave me the type of hug my mum usually gave me when she was super proud of something I did.
I got a scarf from Tonks and Tulip as well, just that mine had a Niffler on it. Penny bought me a set of magical pencils that dependingon how you rub them draw in different patterns. Bill gave me a new notebook with a special type of paper that changed colors depending on what you draw on it and Charlie gave me a necklace that had a little Dragon as a charm.
He showed me that if you rubbed the Dragon gently, it would breathe fire and I was in awe of how thoughtful his gift was. I put it on at once, bending my head down as I tried to hide my watery eyes.
Hagrid's gift for both of us was a set of 10 tea bags he made especially for us and we each got a book about Magical Creatures called The Creature Care.
That night when we finally said goodbye and Tulip and I climbed the stairs of the Ravenclaw Common Room, our family owl Waffle was waiting for me on the window shelf of our dorm. I opened the window to let her in and I took the letter and the present from her.
I must've frowned when I was reading the letter as Tulip rushed to my side. “Nova, what's wrong?”
I looked at her, sadly. “I think I'm going to spend Christmas alone.” I said miserably.
“My mum wrote to me. She was sent for Azkaban duty during the Christmas holidays and my dad is stuck in Egypt as they've just discovered a new tomb.” Tulip sat on my bed, putting her hand on my back, rubbing it in circles.
“Blimey Nova, if I knew I would've asked my parents to stay.”
“No, no. It's fine. You should go home and see your family. I know you can't wait to see your parents again.” I sniffed as my nose clogged from tears gathering in my eyes.
“We ALL want to see our families, Nova. You could ask Tonks or Penny if they could stay.” She tried to cheer me up.
“No, no. Penny has to go home as her sister can't wait for her to tell her all about Hogwarts. And Tonks, even though she doesn't want to admit it, misses her parents as well.” I put on a fake smile. “I'll be fine, really. I'll have Pip and I can play with all the amazing presents you guys gave me!” Tulip smiled at me, trying to hide that she felt sorry for me.
That night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking what will I do for the Christmas holidays all alone. I didn't think this was going to happen and as much as my aunt could be annoying squeezing my cheeks and feeding me her not-so-tasty pie, I was seriously considering going to her for the holidays.
But then I remembered. I didn't know if Charlie was leaving home for Christmas. That's when I decided to owl him in the morning, to ask him what his plans for the holidays were.
I woke up with the sun gently brushing my face. I wrote Charlie a letter, asking him about his Christmas plans and thanking him again for the necklace, which I was still wearing.
I sent Pip to the Gryffindor Tower in the hopes that I wouldn't wake him up. I knew how much he liked to sleep in.
Pip found me not even an hour later in the Courtyard. I opened Charlie's letter at once.
Hi Nova,
I am so sorry to hear that you won't be able to spend Christmas with your mum and dad. But Bill and I are going home, mum misses us too much.
If you'd like I can ask her if you can join us? I'm sure she wouldn't mind.
Love, Charlie
I smiled at how small his handwriting was. Christmas with the Weasleys? Bill and Charlie were so amazing, I think their family can't be any different. I sent Pip back with a reply that if his family really wouldn't mind I would love to spend Christmas with them at the Burrow.
The next week went by as fast as you can say Kneazle. Our professors gave us so much homework to do over the holidays that I kind of regretted not staying at Hogwarts.
Penny in the meantime, couldn't stop talking about all the Muggle pastries her dad was going to make, for which Tonks and I couldn't deny, sounded delicious.
Tulip was waiting to pack almost until the last day, while Penny scolded her that she should've done it already and that she has been packed since the weekend of my and Charlie's birthday party.
The day before I was supposed to go spend time with Bill and Charlie's family Tonks, Penny, Tulip, Charlie, and I were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast. Charlie was just explaining how each year they enchant a gnome and put it on the Christmas tree without their mum noticing. Which gave a brilliant idea to Tonks and made Tulip laugh so much that I thought she was going to fall off the bench.
I was about to put a spoon full of cereal in my mouth when an owl flew straight into my bowl, splashing us all with milk. Errol hooted confusingly as she had a couple of corn flakes on her head. Tonks flicked it off her, while Charlie took the letter she had tied around her ankle and frowned.
I placed my head on his shoulder as I read the letter with him.
My dear Charlie,
I am sorry to say that you and Bill ought to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. Your brothers thought it would be funny if they set a whole package of Filibuster's Fireworks off in the living room.
Thanks to them, we are going to spend Christmas cleaning up the mess they've made. I would rather see that you, Bill, and your friend Nova spend a nice, quiet Christmas at Hogwarts.
I have already written Dumbledore a letter to sign you up on the list of students who are staying for Christmas as it is too late for you to do it.
Don't worry, you'll still get your presents and know you will be missed greatly.
Please give this letter to Bill if he's not reading it with you.
Love and lots of hugs,
Mum
“Oh, Charlie I am so sorry.” I hugged him.
“What's going on?” Asked Penny confused.
“My bloody brothers, that's what!” Charlie said, so mad that even his freckles got red.
“Language little brother.” Bill came to our table and upon seeing Errol playing with Tonks said: “What did Fred and George do now?”
“They blew up the bloody living room with them fireworks they always carry around.” Charlie was still frowning and gave Bill the letter.
Bill rolled his eyes slightly then smiled at Charlie.
“Look, we can make a nice Christmas for ourselves right here, can't we Nova?” He winked at me to encourage his idea.
“Yeah, we can celebrate here, see how the Castle looks in the snow. Perhaps have a snowball fight?”
“Hey, I want a snowball fight!” Tonks intervened.
“It's not going to be the same. I miss mum and dad, and Ginny and Ron. Even Percy and those cheeky trouble-makers.” Charlie frowned at the last few words. “And how are we supposed to celebrate Christmas with Nova? She is not allowed in our Common Room. We won't even be able to open the presents together.” He added.
“Charlie, listen. We can work something out. We can be here in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve for as long as they'll let us and then in the morning we can bring our Christmas presents here and open them together, what do you say?” Bill ruffled his hair.
“Oh, alright.” He said and let Bill squeeze him in a hug.
Later that afternoon we said goodbye to Tonks, Penny, Tulip, and Jae as they were all packed and ready to go to Hogsmeade Station to catch the train home.
On Christmas Eve it was just as Bill promised. We were sitting at the Gryffindor Table eating as many gingerbread cookies as our stomachs were letting us. I was drawing in the notebook Bill gave me while he was still explaining to me how exactly the enchanted paper worked. Charlie was trying a new hairdo on Pip, which he didn't appreciate as much as he appreciated the attention Charlie was giving him.
It was getting rather late. The time passed so quickly as Bill and Charlie were telling me all the stories of their previous Christmas when Fred and George almost set the Christmas tree on fire. How they were happy when they found out they are finally getting a sister and how their brother Percy is something else in the family. Bill then told me the secret recipe for Christmas cookies their mum makes every year to which they made me swear I will never tell her that I know and how their dad was obsessed with everything Muggle-related, which explained the rubber duck Charlie got for his birthday.
We then said goodbye as the boys went to the Gryffindor Tower and I went to Ravenclaw's. When I woke up in the morning, I couldn't help but feel excited. I put Tulip's Christmas present on her bed and as the Hufflepuff Prefect stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas as well, I decided to ask her, if she could put Tonks' and Penny's presents on their beds.
I put on a hoodie and the most comfortable pants I could find as I was still full from the previous day. Then I grabbed all my Christmas presents that were waiting for me at my bedside and rushed to the Great Hall.
Bill and Charlie were already there and Charlie beamed with excitement when he spotted me.
“There you are! What took you so long!” Charlie hurried me to take a seat at the Gryffindor Table.
“He meant to say good morning, he is just too excited for the presents.” Bill apologized on Charlie's behalf. “See, mum felt so bad that Charlie and I couldn't come home for Christmas that we both got an extra present.” Bill explained Charlie's excitement.
I chuckled as Charlie threw all of them on the table.
“This one's for you Nova,” he handed me a big soft package wrapped in red gift paper. “And this one.” Continued Charlie, as he gave me another, now a smaller soft package. “This one is from me.” Charlie beamed proudly as he gave me yet another present.
“If this one is from you, who are the other two presents from?” I was in awe at how many presents they had for me.
“Well, this one is from me.” Bill shook the small package Charlie gave me before. “And this one,” he said while blushing a little, “is from our mum. She felt bad that she couldn't meet you.” Bill chuckled as he pointed at the red soft package.
I gave Charlie and Bill each their present. Charlie opened it at once and he gasped when he saw what he got. I got him a snowball in which I recreated the Burrow as much as Bill could help me in detail.
“Since you can't go home for Christmas, I thought I'd ask Bill to help me bring home to you.” I smiled. I couldn't help but notice that his eyes got watery.
“Th-thank you.” Was all he could say, his eyes still on the snowball.
I got Bill a new Gryffindor tie as his old one was looking rather ghastly after he didn't take proper precautions in his last Potions class.
I opened their mum's present first and when they saw what I got they both chuckled. It was a navy blue Christmas jumper with baby blue N in the middle.
“Mum gives us one every year. When you get a Christmas jumper from our mum, you officially become a Weasley.” Charlie grinned.
I didn't know what to say. I took off my hoodie and took a while to get the jumper over my head so that I could cover my red cheeks. It was so soft.
“I love it! I didn't get anything for her though.” I felt bad.
“Don't worry, Nova. She doesn't make these to expect something in return.” Bill showed on the jumper he was wearing. His was burgundy with a golden W on it, while Charlie's was green with a red C on it.
I then opened Charlie's present which had a little notebook in it. “It's a self-doodler.” He explained excitedly.
“A self-what?” I opened the notebook and found it empty.
“You turn to the desired page, tap it with a wand, and whisper the creature you would like to see. Try it. He took my wand out of my back pocket and handed it to me.
I tapped on one of the pages and whispered: “Niffler.” Something started to form on the page. It was as if someone was drawing the creature in front of me.
“It draws all common creatures on your demand. The sketch stays there until you close the notebook. I thought it might come in handy when you draw.” He scratched the back of his head.
“Char...Charlie, this must've cost a fortune.” Was all I could say as his gift left me speechless. I looked at him and caught him quickly glance at Bill. I looked at Bill and he winked at me, indicating that he helped Charlie to buy me the gift.
Lastly, I opened Bill's present and chuckled when I saw it was a hat. It was amusing to me that we both got each other a piece of clothing.
After we ate our breakfast and opened the rest of our presents, Bill sent everything upstairs while we got dressed and headed outside. It was beautiful as snow has been falling all night and all morning. We went through the Main Courtyard and decided to go down to the Black Lake where we had an epic snowball fight and I couldn't help but think of how jealous Tonks was going to be when I tell her about it.
After 2 hours in the snow, we were practically freezing, so we decided to pay Hagrid a visit before heading back up to the Castle for dinner. He made us hot chocolate this time and Bill and Hagrid were in a heated discussion about creatures that might be found in ancient tombs as Charlie and I played with Fang.
I said goodbye to the boys and returned to the Ravenclaw Tower with the biggest grin on my face. I was wondering if mum and dad would be mad if I said that this was the best Christmas of my life. I completely forgot that I wasn't home for Christmas and by Charlie's excitement and the smile he had on his face when we parted ways I think it's safe to say that so did he.
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redvoid-40 · 4 years
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Chapter 3: Team Seven
Fanfic title: ??? Word count: 2801 Fandom: Naruto Pairing: eventual Gaara x OC, cannon pairings Genre: Friendship, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: None
Previous chapter / Next chapter
Hope you all enjoy this chapter! If this chapter feels a bit rushed it’s because it is XD.
Honestly I’m not a fan of re-writing cannon scenes that don’t contribute with something other than what we’ve seen in the manga/anime, so I tend to rush past them so we don’t have to see the same thing all over again.
It’ll get better as we reach the Chuunin EXams. ;)
Hope you guys enjoy this regardless! :D
----
It was Guidance Day for the newly-graduated Konoha Genins, a date when every student arrived early at the Academy, all anxious about the beginning of this new stage of their lives.
Which meant-
“Ah, there are no more seats side by side.” Shin spoke dejectedly as she and Naruto entered their classroom.
“It’s okay! We can seat in front of each other, believe it!” Naruto replied as he sat down, pointing to the empty seat behind him. 
Shin nodded and sat down behind Naruto, at last noticing who was sitting by his side.
 “Oh, Sasuke-kun, good morning.”
The black-haired boy looked at her from over his shoulder with an annoyed look on his face and for a moment Shin thought he would ignore her. To her surprise he nodded at her, mumbling what might’ve been a “Morning” or a “Shut up” under his breath.
Shin laughed awkwardly. She still didn’t quite know how to deal with Sasuke.
“G-Good morning, Shin-chan.” Said the girl sitting by her side, drawing her attention from the brooding boy.
When Shin looked to her left, she felt a smile stretch easily over her lips.
“Good morning, Hinata-chan.” Shin replied. “I’m happy to see you here. Congratulations on passing the exam!”
Hinata nodded, blushing. “You and N-N-Naruto-kun as well. Congratulations.”
“Thank you!”
Before either girl could say anything more, loud and rapid footsteps could be heard. And soon after-
“I’m first!” Sakura and Ino yelled as they barged into class at the same time.
From somewhere in the class, Shin could hear Shikamaru complaining.
“Here we go again… This is so troublesome.”
---
Five minutes later found a worried Shin fretting over a beaten up Naruto.
“Naruto-chan… are you okay?” She asked from the seat behind him. “I have some painkillers with me. Do you want any?”
Sakura, who had squeezed her way in-between Naruto and Sasuke turned to her.
“Don’t worry about him, Shin. He got what he deserved for harassing Sasuke-kun as he did!”
Shin smiled awkwardly. “It was an accident, Sakura-chan… I’m sure Naruto-chan didn’t mean to kiss Sasuke-kun.”
Just mentioning it brought an angry fire into Sakura’s eyes.
“Good intentions are worthless when it comes to matters of the heart!”
Shin tilted her head to the side. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
---
A few minutes later Iruka walked in to divide the Genin in groups of three. Each trio would be under the command of a Jonin, the highest ranking in the Shinobi hierarchy.
The problem was: the numbers didn’t match for only teams of three.
“As for Team Seven, it will be composed by four of you…” Iruka explained. “An exception will be made here, otherwise we’d have one Genin left without team. The integrants of this group are: Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke and Osasu Shin.”
---
On the following day, Team Seven were to meet their new teacher. They were waiting for him in one of the spare classrooms at the Academy.
They were waiting for a long time.
And when Naruto was left with too much time in his hands he usually found different ways to get into trouble. Like planting a booby trap on the door with the blackboard eraser for their Jonin teacher.
That little prank hadn’t impressed their teacher in the slightest.
---
“Hmm… How to say it?” Kakashi began, eraser in hand. “My first impression of you is: you’re a bunch of idiots.”
---
After the not-quite successful first contact, Team Seven went outside for a little quality time as a group.
“Well, why don’t you all introduce yourselves, one at a time.” Said Kakashi.
“Introduce ourselves?” Sakura echoed. “What are we supposed to say?”
“Tell us what you like, what you don’t, your hobbies. Your dreams for the future.”
“Sensei, why don’t you go first? Just so we know what to say.” Naruto suggested.
“Me? I’m Hatake Kakashi. The things I like or don’t… I don’t feel like telling you. My dreams for the future? Never thought about it before. About my hobbies; I have many.”
Shin chuckled awkwardly as Sakura turned to them. “In the end he just said his name.”
“Alright. Your turn now.” Kakashi announced. “You on the right, go first.”
Shin turned to the right and smiled as Naruto introduced himself.
“My name is Uzumaki Naruto!…...”
After him, it was Sakura’s turn. “I’m Haruno Sakura!......”
Then it was Sasuke.
“My name is Uchiha Sasuke. There are many things I don’t like. And I don’t like anything in particular. What I have planned for the future is not a dream because I’ll make it become a reality. I’ll re-establish my clan and kill a certain someone.”
The air turned cold as Shin stared at Sasuke wide-eyed. He was even more intimidating up-close and personal. It made a shiver run down her spine as she wondered-
If Naruto-chan hadn’t approached me as he did when I arrived, if I hadn’t grown close to him and everyone else in our class… Would I end up like him?
“Okay… You with the brown hair. Your turn now.”
Shin was snapped of her thoughts by Kakashi’s voice and immediately put on a smile on her face.
“My name is Osasu Shin. I like hanging out with Naruto-chan and everyone else in our class. I don’t like waking up too early because I have a hard time falling asleep. As a hobby I like playing my father’s- I mean, my lute. As for my dream for the future…” Shin’s smile cracked slightly as a shadow settled over her eyes. “I… I don’t know. I guess I want to be a good Shinobi and continue to enjoy my days with my friends. Sorry, I know it’s not much but... that’s it.”
“Alright!” Kakashi spoke. “I guess that’s enough for today. I see you’re all your own persons. Our formal training begins tomorrow.”
---
On the next morning Shin had to be physically dragged from her bed by Naruto so they’d be at the training ground in time. She wasn’t proud to admit that she whined the whole way to Naruto about how absurdly early their teacher decided to start.
Shin was half-asleep as they met up with Sakura and Sasuke on the training grounds, barely managing to wish them good morning before laying her head on Naruto’s shoulder and dozing off to dreamland as they waited for Kakashi to show up.
Like on their very first day, he showed up ridiculously late.
And he had brought an equally ridiculous test to them.
---
“I have two bells here. Your challenge is to steal these from me before the timer sounds. Anyone who fails doesn’t get any lunch. Instead you will be tied to that tree stump so I can eat your lunch in front of you.”
---
When the training started, all Genins ran off, finding a good place to hide in the trees and bushes around them..
All but Naruto, who stayed to fight their Jonin-level teacher head-on.
---
Shin was hiding in the trees, watching Naruto and Kakashi fight. Like Sakura and Sasuke she believed it would be better to hide and watch their teacher before coming up with a strategy to get the bells. She had hoped Naruto would do the same so they both could come up with a plan and work together. She hoped to convince Sakura and Sasuke to join forces with them - taking out a Jonin would be almost impossible for four newbie Genins like themselves - but she wasn’t very confident they would. Sasuke didn’t strike her as a teamwork type - especially since two of them would fail regardless of their team’s success - , and Sakura wouldn’t want to work together unless Sasuke joined.
But that idea was put on second plan, because Naruto decided he’d stand and fight Kakashi one-on-one.
Shin sighed as she watched their teacher poke Naruto in the butt without mercy.
Naruto-chan… I admire how you face everything head-on. But sometimes it’s important to step back as well.
She watched as they fought, growing increasingly amazed with Naruto’s abilities and his use of the Shadow Clone Jutsu. For a moment she believed he had gotten Kakashi beaten when one of his clones grabbed him from behind.
But one Substitution Jutsu later and Naruto was hanging upside down from a tree.
Not bad Naruto-chan. Shin thought, reaching for a kunai with her right hand. Kakashi-sensei seems to even have forgotten about the rest of us. If I can throw this kunai at the rope and cut you loose we might be able to take him two-on-one.
Just as Shin was about to throw her kunai, some shuriken flew in front of her, hitting Kakashi square on the face.
Shin gulped. Sasuke-kun, did you just-?
To her relief their teacher had used another Substitution Jutsu, because of course he did. He was a Jonin, he wouldn’t be caught by surprise like that.
With Kakashi out of sight, Shin tensed her muscles, ready to act. She needed to free Naruto.
“Well, he must be after Sasuke-kun now, so it’s my chance to-”
“To do what, Shin-kun?”
Shin’s eyes widened and she jumped from her tree branch to another, twirling in the air to throw a few shuriken in Kakashi’s direction. She had no illusion of hitting him, but hopefully it would distract him enough so she could get her bearings.
As she landed on another branch, kunai in hand, Shin found Kakashi in her previous location, shoulder against the tree bark as he read his book.
“Good reflexes.” He commented lazily. “Did you intend on using them to hit me before Sasuke had the chance to try it?”
Shin answered with a shrug, eyes fixed on Kakashi.
That somehow seemed to get his attention more than her so-called “good reflexes”. He even raised his eye from his book to her.
“Ah… so that kunai wasn’t meant for me. Your plan was to help Naruto first and then fight me two against one. Hopefully, Sasuke and Sakura-kun would join too, eh?”
The girl tensed. How did he-
“Seems like you’re all better than I first believed.” Kakashi continued. “Guess I should take you a bit more seriously then.” At that, he put away his book and raised his arms in a fighting stance.
Shin laughed nervously. “I kinda wish you didn’t.”
For a second Shin believed Kakashi had broke a smile from behind his mask.
“Come at me Shin-kun. With the intention to kill.”
---
A few minutes later found Shin sprawled on her back in the florest ground, bruises all over her body, breath heavy in her lungs and skin glowing disgustingly with sweat. Kakashi stood in front of her, his one visible eye shining with amusement.
“Well, someone has been working hard on her Taijutsu.”
Shin stared at him, but didn’t say anything. If I had managed to free Naruto-chan we could’ve gotten the bells. I’m sure of it.
When she tried to stand up, Shin found her arms and legs were as heavy as rocks. Her eyes widened and she strained her neck to stare at her body. All her limbs were involved by a thick layer of rocky ground.
“When-?”
“You didn’t really think I’d just let you go, right?”
Shin looked back at Kakashi and pouted. “I’ll get out of here.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll free Naruto-chan. We’ll convince Sasuke-kun and Sakura-chan to help us, and we’ll get those bells.” Shin answered, voice echoing with a sort of determination she didn’t truly feel.
“But there are only two bells.” Kakashi pointed out.
“We can share.”
Behind his mask, Kakashi seemed to smile.
“Good luck with that! I’m off to get Sasuke.”
---
As it turns out, digging her way out of dirt prison with limited hand movement was much more difficult than Shin expected. It was a few minutes after the alarm went off when she managed to free herself and go back to the start point.
And when she arrived all of her teammates were there already. Naruto was tied to one of the tree trunks, Sakura looked about to either cry or fly into a fit of rage, and Sasuke was pinned to the ground with Kakashi’s foot on his head.
Shin stopped mid-step as she took the scene. “What happened?”
“Nice of you to join us, Shin-kun.” Kakashi spoke, not letting go of Sasuke. “You’re a bit late though. To catch you up to speed: I was just telling these guys that they failed. You passed though. Congratulations!”
Shin looked from person to person, mind reeling with what Kakashi had just told her.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Kakashi-sensei. I didn’t get any bells! If I passed without any bells, then everyone else should too.”
Kakashi looked at her from the corner of his eye, before fixing his glare on Naruto and Sakura in front of him.
“Do you three see what I mean? Teamwork.”
If anything, Shin seemed even more confused.
“Sakura-kun, you ignored Naruto and then Shin-kun. Both were trapped right in front of you, but the moment I mentioned I’d get Sasuke you left them to help him, even though you didn’t know where he was.” Kakashi explained, eye dancing between his students. “Naruto, you tried to do single-handed what should’ve been the work of a team. And Sasuke had already decided that his three teammates would only get in his way, and that he was better off playing solo. Meanwhile Shin-kun intended to get Naruto free and convince you two - Sasuke and Sakura-kun - to work together for the bells. Of course, I didn’t allow her the chance to do so, but I did give you plenty of opportunities to approach one another with the same idea. And that’s why she’s the only one that passes.”
Shin “ahhh-ed” in understanding.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, she protested. “You can’t do that, Kakashi-sensei.”
kakashi looked at her as if she had grown a second head.“And why’s that, Shin-kun?”
“You set the rules before this exercise began: You win if you get the bells. I understand you were hoping we’d use teamwork to get them, but it doesn’t change the fact that none of us got the bells. It’s not fair to pass someone who didn’t fulfill the exercise’s stated goal. If you pass me, you should pass everyone.”
There was a moment of silence and then Kakashi released Sasuke and turned his back on all of them
“Look at this Marker…”
---
In the end Kakashi had decided to allow them one more chance. He allowed Sasuke and Sakura to eat the bento boxes, as long as they didn’t share anything with Naruto or Shin.
Naruto remained tied to the trunk.
---
"Why did you do that?"
Shin blinked, brown eyes fixed on Sasuke.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
Her question seemed to annoy the Uchiha, who almost threw his bento box at her face. "Why did you refuse to pass?! Are you stupid?"
Shin startled at the harshness of Sasuke's words. Naruto noticed it and didn't like it in the least.
"Don't talk to her like that, you jerk!"
Sakura in turn, didn't like how Naruto spoke to Sasuke.
"NARUTO! HOW DARE YOU-"
Before Sakura could punch the boy tied to the tree trunk Shin put herself between them, trying to appease everyone with an awkward smile.
"It's okay guys. Let's not fight. Naruto-chan, thanks for defending me but I'm okay. I don't mind answering Sasuke-kun's question. Truth is… there would be no meaning if I passed by myself."
That was enough to draw everyone's focus back to her, and it made Shin blush as she continued.
"It might sound strange to you guys, but becoming a Shinobi hasn't always been my dream. When my parents were… murdered, and the Third Hokage accepted me in this village, it just seemed like a good way to make a living. But then I met Naruto-chan, and I got to share my everyday with all of you. And you all were so passionate about becoming Shinobis and protecting this village. It was contagious. Next thing I knew, classes became more exciting, training suddenly was meaningful and my days were… happy again. Your dreams became mine too. And that's why if I can't be a Shinobi with you all, I don't see any meaning in it."
The three Genin stared at Shin. The girl blushed harder and tried to smile at them.
"Shin-chan…" Naruto let out, almost tearing up. "This time we'll work together and beat that Scarecrow Face, b-believe it."
"Yeah!" Sakura joined, punching the air. "We'll totally get those bells!"
Sasuke smirked and nodded. Then to everyone's surprise, he rose his bento box in the air, offering to share it with Naruto and Shin.
"You guys will be of no use to me on an empty stomach." He offered as explanation.
Sakura hesitated for a moment but followed soon after, going as far as hand-feeding Naruto a bite.
Then Kakashi appeared out of nowhere, as if ready to murder them on spot.
Shin, Sasuke and Sakura all put themselves in front of Naruto, ready to defend him from their teacher's wrath.
But Kakashi didn’t attack then. Instead he yelled out-
“YOU PASS!”
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kekekentyuh · 4 years
Text
The Quirks and Qualms of Online Class
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The global pandemic terrorizing us as of the moment has taken so much of our lives when limited social contact was introduced. Preventing the virus from spreading further has reduced our lives to crumbs, robbing a lot of us of the chance to create a better life for ourselves in the outside world, forcing us to powerlessly retreat within the walls of our homes. And sadly, to say the very least, even the education system wasn’t safe from the Corona effect.
Remote learning seems to be the next logical step that most academic institutions can come up with because of the whole social distancing thing. For a while, it was a step so many dreaded to take because of how evident it was that it was just a disaster begging to take place — the countless government officials continuously campaigning to push through with the academic year weren’t of good help either — although it eventually arrived to a point where it was the only thing they could think of. Some have already opted to use this means of providing as early as April to finish off the previous school year, or summer semesters in some university constituents, all in little steps, but in general, we all know how it is: this type of learning is new to most of us, especially for those of us who are used to face to face learning, and we’re all learning to adjust to it while we’re still contained indoors.
The university I attend already had us undergo the whole process of online learning during our Midyear semester last June, where we took a couple of subjects that we were supposed to enroll in for the summer had the world not gone batshit crazy, opting only to open the possibility of attending that midyear semester for those who are required to do so in their respective course program curricula. We held synchronous online sessions via Zoom, where meetings were recorded for everyone's access, making for more accessible resources for note-taking, and used the online learning platform Canvas as pilot testers (both accounts provided by the university itself along with our emails) that we utilized for transfer of information, like learning materials and paperless, digital submissions, generally, and it all seemed to work, for a term that lasted a month maximum. But even before it began, I had a lot of qualms and reservations, particularly on how it’s all going to play out, and how it’s going to affect my performance and my academic standing, because up to that point, I’ve never taken any class or required academic sessions within virtual online learning platforms (not that I was happy while I was taking it, anyway; it’s a hellhole waiting to burst like a pimple). And that was just for a Midyear semester, which was four weeks at most; given how they’re planning to have this coming regularly-paced semester (shortened for the purpose of everyone’s convenience, although I’m pretty sure that’s going to do more harm than benefit, especially for students) purely on remote learning accords, we have no idea how we’re all going to take it on, not with major subjects and a lot of skill-based outputs being asked of us, which are probably much, much heavier than the countless submissions we had to do previously. 
But you know what the boomers think: it’s all better than letting the school year just fly away, they didn’t have access to privileges like this so we’d better put up with it. Go now, plan later; and to that, I say one thing — you can’t stop a runaway train.
Even though one month of putting up with this mess is probably just a rough estimate of just how grueling an entire semester online is going to be, I would like to share a few of the things that I’ve noticed about remote learning that are not so great, and, to be completely unbiased, fine by my own judgment. I’m going to use the experiences me and my fellow Biology majors had whilst taking them to truly evaluate how effective it is for university students here in the Philippines, all with the company of you, my dear readers. This is, however, limited to the things we’ve experienced, and may vary for different situations, like from the point of view of a faculty member or a student of a different school, so please, take all of this with a grain of salt. We have no idea if things are going to play out exactly like they did previously, but it’s good to know a few things to prepare ourselves, right? Consider this as sort of a primer — from one lousy college student to another. If we’re going to deal with this bullshit, we’re going to look at it together. 
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For starters, remote learning is kind of energy efficient — and when I say that, I don’t mean chill. God, no; it’s anything but. The main thing I really like about learning from home is that it saves us a lot more time and physical energy than how much we usually need to attend face to face classes. It’s a very striking point, and I’m sure some may see it beneficial, especially those who still need to put up with the commute to go on campus. We don’t have to worry more about budgeting our time between classes and activities outside, like what time we’d have to wake up so we can have more time to get ready for our day ahead, or where to eat and what to wear to go out. We can wear home clothes while attending classes (not like your clothes even matter, anyway; at least not in UP) and don’t have to deal with the headaches and heartburns you get when you try commuting in the Metro, since we’re all just indoors. And let’s not forget, for someone who attends a university situated in the middle of a bustling city with people of all shapes and sizes that you can never trust, being confined to our homes means we are in a much safer environment, where we wouldn’t have to worry about being robbed every fifteen seconds or won’t have to look twice so every passing vehicle gets a lesser chance of ejecting us off the street. We’re all sitting within the walls of our homes, so we have lesser things to worry about logistically, so to speak. Besides, stepping outside is even more of a risk now than ever, and making available materials to access at home may reduce the probability of that risk getting the best of us, so at least that’s out of the way, like it’s supposed to be.
One thing that also struck me about remote learning is how it’s heavily dependent on how you pace your studies and work. Since your learning environment consists mostly of you and the digital materials, apart from the synchronous classes some professors require, a lot of the time, the way you’re going to deal with this is mainly on how you decide to work on it and how your pace with regards to taking everything on would be, and since there are scheduled deadlines and exams, and you can’t afford to lose any of your precious time monkeying around, albeit the hard way, you’ll definitely learn to manage your time on your own. It’s not completely individual, as there were still group tasks and outputs to be submitted as a unit, but since you’re all alone in your workspace, it’ll all depend on how well you manage to properly do these requirements. Time management is a key factor in college, or in any school level setting really, a skill better than any studying technique you will ever come across, since it helps a student tackle the countless loads of work being tossed their way without it stacking up to immediate doom, and remote learning prompts one to find the method that allows one to work with the flow the easiest — kind of like the perfect key to crank up an engine.
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But the thing about remote learning is, for a whole student system not entirely prepared and properly equipped for it, the cons outweigh the pros — by about a mile.
To put it simply, limited contact is much more stressful in the parts of those who are actually involved in the setup, which are, primarily, the student and the teacher. Home environments, right up the first bullet, are not all conducive learning environments. This is entirely dependent on various factors, which may range from more personal ones, like unfavorable familial setups or various distractions at home, or more logistical ones, like the location of the home itself, all contributing to numbers and numbers of disruptive tendencies, none of which are under the child’s control, which may result to their lack of focus or increased anxiety. Home environments are not made for learning, unlike schools and universities where students are free to study without any distractions, and this may hold back the smooth process of their learning if continuous and entirely destructive — and there’s nothing the students nor the instructors can do about it but stress out. The number one most notorious culprit of them all, undeniably, would be the alarmingly appalling mediocrity of the Internet connection the majority has access to, which, on particularly bad days, may result to unfavorable situations almost unexpectedly, like constantly being cut off from the session and unclear instructions from professors, mostly, who have unfavorable access to the Internet themselves. The constant unannounced power cutoffs in some parts of the country (which is, personally, my biggest qualm and pet peeve that I have developed during quarantine) would come in at a close second, especially since a lot of these blackouts have no given range, much to the dismay of the consumers. On top of these are some unexpected inconveniences, like glitchy learning environments and faulty instructor-to-student communication, brought by lack of time synchronization, mostly, that may not seem like much, but can make this whole experience a whole lot shittier than it actually is. 
And what’s even more stressful is the few solutions to these problems can all but do so much; mobile data as a substitute for WiFi connections can only give us so much with promos and the money it costs, but in the end, it’s still no match for the data requirements synchronous meeting platforms like Zoom or Google Meet require, so it’s best to just skip the class than waste your time and data trying to reconnect. Instructor-prepared course packs, which contain all materials needed for the subject, definitely designed to cater to students who lack the resources to make it to online classes, may work, but there’s still a lot of considerations that need to be made for their evaluations, which, preferably, need to match with the rest of the class they’re in. I know — no one wins here, except probably only the officials of our crappy Internet providers, happy that they still have a lot of people to leech out of.
The curriculum of the various degree programs students are enrolled in are at stake, because so much adjustments need to be done in order for them to be suitable for the online setting that they all, well, don’t feel like genuine learning methods anymore. Skill-based programs, like mine in Biology, for example, are particularly affected by these changes, since the materials and the opportunities for us to learn the skills we need for our degree are out there: at the labs, at the campus, out at the world. The pertinence of the development of methods to teach these practical courses with limited contact cannot be denied, but actually fulfilling those requirements physically and learning them with your own experience is something with much more impact, and that can’t be denied, too. The limits imposed on learning these necessarily skills will also limit the students to what they’re being given; if they’re given half the materials to make a bun of bread, they’ll only come up with half of that bun, because they’re given so limited resources. We don’t even know how lab classes will take place — how are we supposed to be sure we’re going to learn from them? Not only that, but the curriculum coming to play is at stake, too; take synchronous evaluation procedures, for instance. Does anyone want to take a quiz or an exam with relentlessly flopping Internet, with electrical power that plays Russian Roulette every single day of the year? Of course not, because you want to do as well as you possibly can in this exam. Do you want to wake up to a blaring, incomplete grade because the assignment file you’ve busted your ass for just didn’t make it through the portal, although you swore to your underwear drawer that you did? Of course not, and that’s why checking the submission box three times is almost nothing. So much of the learning process is being compromised and limited by a lot of factors outside of our control, it’s almost impossible to bounce back into the much-favored learning headspace we all desire to be in. We’re spending so much time worrying about not being able to learn because of so many things around us glitching that we lose, albeit gradually, our focus on actually learning.
These factors all narrow down to one big boulder about to trample one smacking detail within us: our mental health. It’s already bad enough that we’re dealing with the health crisis erupting everywhere around us, a health crisis that doesn’t seem to want to tone down anytime soon, and hearing and seeing so much of the tragedy it’s bringing to our country continuously, but we have to also constantly worry about whether or not we’re learning the right things or submitting the right things on time and still making sure we’re doing our best despite all of it. Imagine the constant anxiety and the rigid schedule of a regular semester multiplied thrice, all dumped online — with a few adjustments here and a few tweaks there, but almost inaccessible to some, and too much for many. You're not even sure, at any given point within the months-long span of supposed learning, if you're doing it to actually absorb the knowledge, or just fulfilling it because it's a requirement, and just hurriedly making sure everything is taken care of because you don't have any more energy to drag it on longer. That’s how mentally draining it is. And I get that I might be exaggerating (I have an underlying tendency to do so; forgive me, my bad) but who’s to say that it may not ring true for some? If you’re anything like me, who finds comfort in the company of peers, in the little things like building a routine and sticking to it, distracting yourself with new, uncharted things every day, and managing your stress outside the confinements of a house, then it’s probably taking a huge toll on you, too. 
But all that’s nothing compared to those directly affected by the pandemic, like the family members of healthcare workers, those whose main modes of making a living were laid off due to contact protocols, and, most importantly, those who lost so many people dear to them because of a virus no one can contain. I can’t explain how much my heart cracks in my chest when I see a student looking to social media to ask for a means to fund his schooling, or when a person I rarely know is knocking to ask for a few pesos to get their ailing family members through. Remote learning, online classes, really, would work just fine — if you belong above that margin. If you have access to resources without going scathed, have nothing else to do but focus on what’s important for you, and leave the rest of the world outside your door. The exclusivity of remote learning is striking, and it’s extremely absurd how much people want to push through with it despite so many consequences for so many unwilling benefactors  — six million children, to be exact — left behind. Children should never have to beg, lose themselves, or destroy themselves to be able to learn, because it’s their right to be given a chance to be the best they can by pursuing this education to the fullest extent. Apparently many people disagree.
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Let me call remote learning for what it really is — a temporary aid, unsustainable way of dragging the students to uncharted waters. It’s a band-aid solution, meant to temporarily do what needs to be done while the future is still unknown. So many calls to stop the year from coming up have been put out there, as well as so much postponing and halting of the flow of inconcrete plans, promising to improve, but time and time again, to nothing; and amid so many calls for help, just within the education sector, there has been no reliable answer. Academic Freeze, which aims to halt the school year altogether, is not a plausible way of resolving this, as it is only student centered; although it may be beneficial for us, a lot of employees in the education system may lose their modes of income as well, which may lead to a shortcoming in their part. But given that, we also cannot turn our backs from the fact that so much of the student population, almost six million, will not be able to enroll, because education is a right that every child must be given, and if one child deserves to go on studying, they all deserve to. And postponing the opening of the academic year and delaying what is to come can only do so much.
Contain the pandemic — that’s the answer. If this administration, particularly the department concerned with this issue, truly cares about the rights of every Filipino to quality, equitable, culture-based and complete basic education, then they’ll take the necessary steps to put an end to this and protect not only those rights, but, to the administration itself, the welfare of their people.
Delaying the problem isn’t putting an end to it, because what’s only slowing down is going to gain momentum later on.
So many thoughts and so many words! What did you think about these experiences? And if your’re from the Philippines, what do you think about the Department of Education’s response to this rising concern? I’d love to hear your thoughts! Let me know by reaching me through the Inquiries page, or through my social media here I'd love to hear from anybody!
Like always, I wish everyone is doing well, being safe and secure, and in good health! I hope everyone is taking care of themselves by sanitizing and garnering a healthy lifestyle! It means a lot to me that you're here reading. Thanks for staying, and I’ll see you on the next one!
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irwinkitten · 5 years
Note
Bish bless me with little princess and uncle lu. She has to stay somewhere when ash and mama are on their honeymoon so ya know...... uncle lu snuggles should happen
so this took so long but 3k later and a lot of soft uncle lu moments. enjoy it and have fun with your heart. love u sweda ♥
masterlist can be found here
this is part 22
Keeping his hoodie up Luke was glad he’d managed to avoid the hoard of photographers at the LAX airport. The sixteen hour flight back to Australia was exhausting and he knew that doing this journey in the space of a few days was going to really fuck with his sleeping patterns.
But, it meant that he got to pick up his niece from Anne-Marie and take her back home to LA where she’d be staying with him for the last part of her parents honeymoon.
He’d already had a text from Ashton to let him know that you two were extending the honeymoon a little bit longer, and he didn’t blame either of you. The few photos he’d sent, it looked beautiful and he could see his friend finally looking much more better.
“Uncle Lu!” The excited yell drew his attention to the welcome party and there she was, waving her hand frantically before abandoning Anne, throwing her arms around his waist.
“Hey there princess. Miss me?” His lips found the top of her head as she nodded, her face pressed into his stomach.
“Nana said Mommy and daddy are gonna be gone for a while longer.” A secret feeling of relief filled him. He was glad he didn’t have to have that conversation.
“Yeah, your dad told me that they’d be another couple of weeks. He wants to really spoil your mom before he comes home and we all go back to work.” Luke also knew it was a getaway for the both of you, time together away from the well meaning, but pitying looks you’d been on the receiving end of.
Once he’d greeted Anne and the three of them were in her car, she was chatting away a mile a minute as she told him of everything she’d done over the last two weeks. He could see the smirk on Anne’s face as she paused for a moment, her thoughts distracted.
“Looks like I’ve got a lot to live up to then, princess.” Luke finally commented and she giggled in the backseat.
“But you n’ me always have fun Uncle Lu. I haven’t spent so much time with nana.”
“Well hopefully you’ll convince your parents to come visit your nana more often, especially when they see how much fun you’ve had.” Anne commented and Luke tried not to laugh.
He knew that Ashton received daily updates of his adventures and Luke also knew you facetimed her every couple of days to check in and make sure she was okay. It wasn’t enough for her to give a complete rundown of her days, but more just to check in and see that she was okay, and to stave off any home-sickness.
This was another reason why Luke had been more than willing to look after her for the last two weeks, because it would be back in LA, where she was familiar with the people around her. Despite most of Ashton’s family still living in Australia, having met his princess at the wedding, he knew that it would still take a while for her to get used to such a family that got involved.
It was a big change and Ashton was all too aware that it could be overwhelming for her, hence the call to Luke.
It was an easy day, the youngest Irwin tagging along with Luke whilst he dropped in to visit with his parents.
He knew that his brothers were going to be there, and he could only hope that they’d at least behave themselves.
She was stood shyly behind his legs, her hand gripping his tightly as he tried to introduce her to his parents.
“S’nice to meet you.” Luke watched as his mum worked her charm on his niece and she very carefully edged from behind him, taking the offered hand and the promise of making some cookies together.
“Did you teach uncle Lu how to make pancakes?” The question made Luke grin as he greeted his dad and they followed after the two into the kitchen.
“I sent him the recipe but he taught himself how to make them really good.”
“Hey uncle Lu?” Luke turned his attention from his dad, glancing to where his mum and niece were standing, an excited grin on her face.
“Yeah princess?”
“Can you teach me how to make your pancakes one day?”
“‘’Course I can,” Luke could hear the door opening, “we’d have to make sure that your mom and dad are okay with it though, princess.” Liz chuckled as the two returned to the kitchen side, she was stood on a small footstool to help her see the countertop better.
“Did I hear that a princess is in the house?” Jack’s voice carried through to the kitchen and Luke watched as she automatically shied into his mum’s side.
“Yeah, a princess who doesn’t want ugly giants disturbing her baking time.” Luke fired back at his brother as he entered the kitchen. Their dad laughed.
“Looks like you’ve gotta get outta the kitchen then, baby brother of mine.” Luke rolled his eyes but grinned at Jack before greeting him properly.
“Nice to see you remember that there is a country called Australia.” He teased as they pulled away and Luke shrugged.
“That’s the rockstar life. However, the youngest Irwin has been having a ball in our home country.” This prompted her to speak up.
“Nana took me to do so many things, and we’ve got some really cool photos too! We even went  and fed some kangaroo’s.” This made Jack laugh.
“Good, otherwise we’d have had to have kidnapped you and take you to see them ourselves if you hadn’t.” This made their dad roll his eyes before hustling the two of them out of the kitchen.
“Stop distracting them or no cookies for either of you.”
Once the excited yell of ‘cookies are done!’ came from the kitchen, Luke headed up to the toilet, flashing his mum a grin as she guided the smallest Irwin into the living room.
Her smile dropped as she took in Jack, her gaze becoming suspicious as Jack grinned at her.
“You alright there, princess?”
She immediately stepped back towards Liz who tried her hardest not to laugh. She clocked Andy with his phone held up.
“You’re not uncle Lu.” A snort escaped from Liz as the one person she was after came into the room, confusion becoming evident as her head twisted between the two, trying to understand.
“Do you have a twin Uncle Lu?” Luke laughed as Jack pouted.
“He’s my older brother, princess.”
“Oh. I don’t like that he looks like you.” The innocence within her words set off both Liz and Andy, a look of mock offence crossing Jack’s features as Luke held his arms out to her and he lifted her easily onto his hip, her legs wrapping around his waist as she held the prized cookie aloft, ignoring the guffaws of laughter from the adults in the room.
“Made you this.” She beamed and he took the offered bite, a grin spreading across his own features as the others began to calm down, moving to sit next to Jack, her gaze turning wary once more and Luke had to hide his smirk.
“He might look like me, but he isn’t me. I’m the better brother.” His words were in jest, causing Jack to shove his shoulder in return.
“Of course you are. You’re my favourite.” Jack’s hands clasped over his heart at her declaration.
“You’ve wounded me, sweet princess with your words. How can he be the better brother when I’ve been around longer?”
“‘Cause he makes me my favourite pancakes and lets me run around with Piggy.”
“Shot down by an eight year old.” Luke teased, making his parents laugh once more.
“One day, I’ll make you my famous pancakes and you can decide who’s is better.” Jack offered and she shook her head, her arms wrapping around Luke’s neck.
“Uncle Lu’s will always be best.”
“Not if you’re gonna keep making those cookies. Those are by far my favourite.” At this, she beamed up at him before reluctantly letting go of his neck and sliding from his lap, moving to stand in front of Jack, offering out another cookie.
“Peace offering?” Jack’s question was met with a hesitant nod.
“Uncle Lu is still better though.”
It was early in the morning that Luke left Australia with his niece in tow.
Since they stayed at his parents that night, the rest of the Hemmings were up to see them off. She clung to Liz tightly who peppered her in kisses.
“Your nana said she’ll make sure to facetime you when you’ve landed back in LA. She also told me to tell you that she’s going to bring Harry and Lauren with her for your birthday.” This earned Liz a sleepy smile in return as she moved to Luke’s side.
“C’mon then princess.”
“Hey, what about me, trouble?” Jack protested tiredly and he snorted as she pulled herself over to his brother, allowing him to pick her up into a tight hug.
He could feel her body get heavier so Jack nodded to the door and Luke understood the message, making their way out to the waiting Uber.
Jack helped buckle her in whilst Luke got their bags in the trunk.
Her eyes opened tiredly when she realised she had been moved.
“We goin’ now uncle Lu?” Her voice was quiet and Jack tried not to laugh.
“Wrong one trouble. But you’re going now. Misbehave for my little brother and I’ll see you on your birthday.” She hummed in return as Luke slid in the other side and she immediately sought out his comfort.
Getting through the airport was easy, even with her half asleep, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Thankfully she didn’t protest when he had to put her down to get her through security.
Despite having travelled so often, he could see her getting overwhelmed especially as people began to realise who he was.
When the first tired tears appeared, he knew that the battle lost for her exhaustion and he was grateful that they were boarding soon.
Once they were on the plane, her tears hadn’t subsided and he could see her exhaustion.
“C’mon princess, you need to sleep.” Her tearful gaze met his and he sighed quietly as the seatbelt sign clicked off and he coaxed her to come over. She did so without much resistance.
Silently glad for first class seating and how private it was, he reclined his seat back and she clambered onto his lap.
“What’s with the tears princess?”
She lifted her shoulders into a shrug and buried herself against him, her face pressing against his chest. He just laughed as he pulled the blanket over the two of them, his hand running down her hair gently.
It didn’t take long before she was fast asleep and he drifted off himself, knowing that the sixteen hour flight would give them a chance to get some decent rest.
By the time they landed in LAX, he knew word would have gotten around that his flight was due in. He was almost grateful she’d spent the first part of the flight asleep, as it left her more alert and she stuck to his side, her hand tucked into his as they collected their bags.
“What are we gonna do first, princess?” His question distracted her as she glanced up to him, her lips pursed into a frown. It was an almost identical look that you wore whenever Ashton had caught you out with a question or statement and you had to think of something in return.
“We’re seein’ Piggy first, right?” He nodded as he pointedly ignored calls of his name as the carousel started up.
“Wanna take her for a walk first and maybe head to the park?”
Her face lit up into a wide grin.
“Can uncle Cal bring Duke?” Pulling his phone out, he shot the text off to Calum, chuckling at her smile.
“Maybe, we’ll see if he’s wanting to drag his carcass out of the house with Duke.”
“Carcass means body, right?” Her question caught Luke off guard and he nodded.
“Sure does. How’d you know that one?”
“Mommy yells at daddy to drag his carcass down the stairs sometimes and so I guessed.” Luke stared for a solid second before he laughed, his hand lifting to try and cover the guffaws that were escaping him.
“Did you tell your mom you know that?” She shook her head and he grinned even wider. “Well we can make it part of what you can tell her when she facetimes later.”
It didn’t take much longer before their luggage appeared and they were pushing their way through the paps. He loathed how they seemed to give no thought to the small girl pressed into his side as they tried to get through the swarm without an incident.
“Hey Hemmings, did you hear about the accident Ashton and Y/N were in?” One pap shouted and Luke felt his stomach drop as her head shot from his side, staring at the pap wide eyed.
This started a new round of yelling, and this time he could see her frightened eyes flickering between the crowds of people and him and Luke pushed through the last of them, heading down to the long stay parking lot.
“Uncle Lu, are mommy and daddy okay?” The excitement that vanished and the fear was easy to hear in her voice. Luke sighed as he crouched to her height.
“If it was serious, your mom or dad would’ve called, or I would have had a message from someone. I’m the person that people need to call if something serious happened to them and I haven’t had one. When we get back to mine, how about we call them first so you can see they’re okay?” She tearfully nodded her head and Luke held back a sigh as they reached the car and he helped her in.
The car journey was quiet as they made it back to his. He knew that his dog sitter had dropped Petunia off earlier that morning, so they were greeted by a clatter of claws.
“Hi Piggy.” The two of them chorused before sharing a look and both of them shared a giggle before he headed up to his office. He’d already sent a text to Ashton to get on facetime, so he collected the iPad before bringing it down to the lounge.
She was sat on the sofa, Petunia lay across her lap and Luke chuckled as he snapped a quick photo before either could look up at him. He then sat next to them just as Ashton’s I.D came through.
Once it connected, they were greeted with the two of you tiredness evident in your eyes.
“Mommy, daddy!” The excited cry was met with grins before yours shifted to one of concern.
“What’s up baby? Uncle Luke told us that you needed to make sure we were okay?”
“There was someone who said you were in an accident.” The two of you exchanged looks before you sighed.
“We weren’t in the accident baby, we were just behind it was all.” Relief flickered across Luke’s face and she seemed to slump against him in relief.
“How was your time in Australia with your nana, princess?” Ashton finally asked and she launched in everywhere they visited, including the other family members she didn’t get to meet at the wedding.
“Nana said that she was gonna visit for my birthday.” She crowed excitedly and you laughed.
“Of course she would! She’s not gonna miss her favourite granddaughters birthday.” You teased and her smile only seemed to grow.
“I also met Jack!” This earned two looks of matching confusion, prompting Luke to speak up and explain.
“As in my brother Jack. Princess here didn’t like that we look so similar.” This made Ashton snort out a laugh.
“I accidentally called him uncle Lu.” Came the shy admittance seconds later and the both of you were trying to clearly hold in your laughter, but Luke just rolled his eyes, setting the two of you off.
It took a few moments before the laughter died down and she simply grinned at the two of you.
The call continued before Luke had a text pop up with Calum confirming that he’d be at the dog park and he grinned.
“Looks like we’re cutting this one short now. Cal is gonna be at the park with Duke.” Luke cut in before Ashton could speak up and she sighed dramatically, making both of you laugh.
“Hey princess, don’t be like that. We’ll be home in a couple of weeks and you can tell us everything you got to do with your uncles.” Ashton chided her gently and she pouted in return.
“I just miss you both.”
“We miss you too sweetheart. But you’ll talk to us in a couple of days. Your dad and I are going on a boat trip which is why we won’t be able to call you tomorrow.” You explained and she nodded sadly.
“And hey, we’ve got all kinds of gifts for you. You just gotta wait till we get home now.” This earned the two of you a reluctant smile before she relinquished her grip on the iPad to Luke.
“I’ll make sure to send you both some photos. Enjoy the rest of your day and we’ll talk to you soon.”
Once the call was cut and the two were changed into more suitable clothes, they coaxed Petunia out and headed down to the park to meet up with Cal.
It was whilst they were walking through the dog park, watching her run around with the two dogs that he realised how much had actually changed and that he was looking forward to his time not only with his niece but also what the future had for them.
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chibitabathawrites · 5 years
Text
Fictober 2019 - Day 02
Fandom: Rhett & Link
Pairing: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Warnings: Mentions a liquor store
Rating: T
Prompt: “Just follow me, I know the area.”
Moving to a new place is always hard. Away from friends and family. But it's time for college life, to live and let live and experience a drop of adulthood before being thrust into the absurdity and loneliness of true adulthood. Orientation on campus was alright, the whole college and dorms all right there. A grocery store, liquor store and pharmacy all right there across from the dorms, pretty much. No wonder the top floor was considered the "party floor" with such establishments so close. "New year, new place, new me," he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror before heading out the door. His classes were mostly in the B building, the building most notorious for being designed by a prison architect. But how bad could it honestly be? He gave himself an hour and a half extra time. There was a place he wanted to stop at first. Adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, he crossed the street into the newest building. The Student Commons, it was bustling with activity, new students clamouring to meet their friends, the school Starbucks jam-packed with kids willing to pay for the overpriced coffee. Link paid them no mind as he weaved through the crowds. He wasn't from here, didn't have anyone to meet, no point in slowing down on day one. He made his way past a Booster Juice, this line filled with what Link pegged as the 'mature' students or 'returning' students. They had eyes that looked both tired and excited. This wasn't their first rodeo by a long shot. Just near the smoothie place was a room with glass windows and an hour of operation sign. Just behind the windowpane sat a decorated wedding cake, images of students and teachers wearing chef's whites. Peering past the display he could see loaves of bread along the wall near a refrigerated display case. "This is Savoir Fare! The food here is made by the culinary and baking students! It's real affordable!" a friendly woman wearing a black apron called to him from the other side of the open door. "Thank you! I'll come back later!" he called with a wave. The woman flashed him a smile and waved back as he began to move on. From what he remembered from the tour he had taken just the week before, he was passing the school store and the main cafeteria. Both seemed jam packed with more students then he could possibly imagine. A simple boy from a small southern county, south of the border, this was bordering on too much now. He pushed past, tracing his steps from the guided tour. Following the hall past the "Observatory" the restaurant slash campus bar he made a left turn at the 'Four Corners'. At least a lot of the landmarks were recognizable enough. Instead of following the path up the stairs towards the library, he passed by them, following the shape of the courtyard framed by four of the school's buildings. A few students were out in the grass, milling about and chatting with each other with bright smiles. Link smiled, he was going to be like those students soon enough. Having a good time. Having friends just like him. At the end of the hall, Link could see the rainbow striped pillar. It made his heart race as he slowly made his way down the dim hall towards the B building, and towards his first destination. The whole pillar was painted in a rainbow spiralling up, an arrow painted along the wall nearest the ceiling, pointing out the school's 'Pride Center'. Link looked down the short hallway and could hear laughter and chatter from an open door spilling light into the hall. Link shifted his bag again before walking towards the open door. Peering into the small room, he could see only six people in the room. The person behind the desk across from the door piped up, "Hello! Welcome!" They smiled at him before adjusting their own pair of glasses. Link raised his hand nervously, "Hey..." he trailed off into the room. Four of the other occupants seemed to be in deep conversation, paying him no mind. The fifth however, waved at him with a small smile of his own. Sliding up to the desk, he eyed one of the event leaflets on the top of the desk. The person behind the desk smiled up at him, "Hi, I'm Vick, the program coordinator here at the Pride Center. We have tons of resources here if you need them along with some fun events scheduled for later today too." "Thank you," Link murmured before taking one of the leaflets and sliding it into his pocket. "Of course! It's an open space, so go ahead and make yourself comfortable," Vick smiled up at him with a gentle smile. Link looked at the two couches and then to the table filled with coloring pencils, markers and blank sheets. He sat at the table, placing his bag by his feet. The boy who waved at him was also at the table, coloring in a picture of Sleepy Bear from the Care Bears. "Hey," the blond murmured as, link shifted through some of the sheets. "Hi," Link smiled at the blond. The blond who was incredibly Link's type and super hot. "Why don't we all introduce ourselves since we have a few new folks here?" Vick rolled their chair towards the group. "Okay!" one girl with dyed pink hair smiled. "So why don't we say our names, pronouns, and since it's the start of the year, what program you're taking?" Vick smiled and the group nodded. "I'll go first. Hi, i'm Vick. I use they/them pronouns, and I'm the program coordinator here." Vick motioned to the girl with pink hair sitting closest to them. "Hey, I'm Q, I use she/her pronouns, and I'm taking Interior Design," the pink haired girl beamed. "Q? Cool name," Vick smiled at the girl before motioning to the brunette beside her. "'Sup, I'm Georgie. She/her too. I'm taking Horticulture Industries." The third person on the couch piped up, "I'm Matt, he/him, I'm in my second year of Baking and Pastry Arts Management." "Yo, I'm Bobbie, they/them, taking Early Childhood Education." The hot blond looked at the others around the room before smiling, ""M Rhett, he/him, I'm here for Music Industry Arts." Link swallowed, "Hey, I'm Link. He/him. I'm here for Business Administration." Everyone seemed to go back to what they were doing, and Link pulled out his phone to check the time. He still had a bit of time before he had to find his classroom. "Where are your classes, Link?" Rhett smiled at him and it made his heart jam up in his throat. "A lot of them are here in the B building, but I'm nervous about finding them all," he shrugged his shoulders slightly. Rhett beamed, "I can help you find them." "I don't want to impose or anything," Link was quick to try and brush the offer for help off. "C'mon, let's see your schedule," Rhett laughed quietly before tapping his foot against the leg of Link's chair. "Alright, here," Link pulled a folded piece of paper out of his hoodie pocket. "Oh, one of them is just around the corner from here. Let's go now so I can show them all to you," Rhett pushed away from the table. "Ah, wait up," Link scrambled to follow the much taller boy. Holy, Link thought he was tall but his guy made him feel short. "Just follow me, I know the area." Rhett thought a moment before adding, "Like the back of my palm," with a laugh before darting out the door. Link blinked rapidly before chasing after the tall boy down the hall. "Wait up!"
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looselucy · 6 years
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Introduction
August 29th A week had passed since my birthday, and my neck and everything else was relatively back to normal. Louis stood at the other side of the counter, inspecting the bruising carefully, noting the markings that still remained. “Looks loads better.” He mulled.
“I know! It doesn’t hurt anymore, but I went for a check-up yesterday and they said I need to keep the brace on a little bit longer.” “Well, put it back on then!” He demanded, as I attacked it back around my neck. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I have to admit, I’m a little bit disappointed to be working again.” I owned a wine shop in the centre of our tiny village, and due to how small the place we lived was, Louis was the only person I needed to hire to help me run things. Rosebury was pretty idyllic, so on top of local regulars, people would visit from surrounding areas to stroll down country lanes and drink beside the river that ran through our home, shop in vintage stores and thankfully, buy rare and overpriced wine from my store. I meant that two of us were earning enough to live a pretty comfortable life, and whenever we needed some time off, all I’d have to do was print a tiny notice and stick it in the window. “Yes, I do work you to the bone.” I nodded, sipping on the cup of tea I’d just made. “I’m really run off my feet.” Louis joined the joke, shrugging and picking up his mug. “So what about those self-defence classes? Libby was telling me about them.” “Yeah, they start tonight.” I shrugged. “I’m a bit… apprehensive.” “How come?” “Not sure. Just feeling… weird, about it.” I was hesitant to admit that a part of me was still a little bit convinced that the guy running the classes was the one who had hurt me in the first place. I knew I was just being silly, really, and that it wasn’t likely, but I didn’t trust the timing of it all. I was intrigued by how the evening would play out, but I definitely wasn’t looking forward to it. “I bet it’s really good for ya.” Louis continued. “Some peace of mind. It’s good to know this stuff, too.” “I guess so.” I was hoping to benefit from the evening in some way, whether that was learning how to successfully knock a man out cold, or if I was going to come face to face with the bloke who’d hurt me and figure out how to knock a man out cold on the spot. I still wasn’t feeling fully myself since it had happened. I was perfectly fine and things had just gone on like normal, but there was something going on at the very back of my mind that I couldn’t quite shake. On top of that, things with Sam hadn’t cleared up, either. He kept turning up at my flat, and idiotically, I kept letting him in. My head was a mess. The bell sounded, and we both whipped our heads towards the front door, Niall having bounced in with so much energy, I knew he’d have a story to tell. “Afternoon, Niall.” Louis grinned. “I’VE GOT A DATE!” He threw his arms in the air dramatically, before clapping his hands together and dancing over to us. “I’ve finally got a real date and I cannot wait.” “That’s sick!” I smiled. “Who is he?” “His name’s Neil, and he’s coming over from Yorkshire… for me.” “Wow you must be such a catch.” Louis beamed vividly. “Shut your mouth, Tomlinson, I am a catch.” Being from such a small place, Niall didn’t ever have much luck when it came to men. There was an unfortunate lack of options available to him, which was a shame given how romantic he was. “Niall and Neil.” I grinned. “I hope it works out just for the name combination.” “So, I’m grabbing an early evening meal with Neil-” “Niall and Neil grab a meal.” Louis sang. “-and then I was thinking we should all go to the pub and I can update everyone, and then kill Louis.” “Sounds good.” I smiled. “Me, Chloe and Libby are going to some self-defence class, and we can meet you afterwards.” “How ya feeling?” Niall moved closer. “How ya been?” “I’m good.” I shrugged, plastering on a smile. “I’m fine.” “You sure?” “Yep. Never better.” “Are you back with Sam?” “Noooooo. No.” I shook my head, maybe with a little more animation than was needed. “We’re just…” Louis looked across to Niall with dead eyes, that were soon returned to him, the two of them judging and rolling their eyes and acting as though I couldn’t see everything they were doing. I placed my mug down on the counter and put my hands on my hips, watching them both shake their heads and tut. “Pathetic.” Niall muttered. “Alright, alright.” I walked around to the other side of the counter, ready to shove him outdoors. “If you’re not going to buy anything, piss off! You’re both the worst.” “I am going to buy something!” He cried as I pushed him. “I’m going to buy a nice bottle of wine for Neil!” “Oh shit, you can stay then.” I immediately dragged him back. “What’re you after?” “A nice red.” “Okay, let’s go.” I took him over to the section I felt was exceptionally under-priced for just how good the wine was, showing him a few of our best bottles and ones I knew would impress the elusive Neil. I was hoping all our evenings would work out for the best.
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Chloe checked over her appearance in the grimy window outside the building we were waiting to leak into, surrounded by excited women all in their early forties or older, who had also decided to attend the new classes that would take place every Wednesday. We were at the back of the short queue that had gathered outdoors, Libby with her arms folded, me with my hands in my pockets, and Chloe leaning so close to her reflection to see if her mascara was still intact I thought she might stumble forward and smash the window. “M’dreading this.” I groaned. “Well, don’t!” Libby argued. “This is gunna be good for us. I’ve always wanted to know how to like… strangle someone.” “I don’t think he’ll be teaching us how to strangle people.” Chloe groaned, leaning back and turning to us. “I think it’ll be more technical than that.” “Or it’s just another creep who wants an excuse to be around women, just like the last guy was.” I added. We heard the faint sound of a door opening, and almost instantly, the line began to shuffle forward, the women ahead of us all bickering excitedly between themselves. I suppose this was as interesting as a Wednesday night got in Rosebury. “Well let’s go find out.” Libby beamed. We followed slowly, through the thin door and then up a slim and creaky set of stairs that went to the second floor of the old building where the sessions were taking place. Everything was dusty and old and perfectly in-keeping with the old buildings that surrounded the one we’d found ourselves in. But all of that changed when we actually walked into the gym. It was clearly all brand new, and it was obvious that this guy had sunk some money into creating the perfect environment for his lessons. The light laminate floors bounced beneath our feet, one wall covered entirely in mirrors, and the wall at the far end of the room opposite the reflection had numerous punching bags hanging from the ceiling. It was clean and professional and it felt like a totally different place to the corridor that was just mere feet away. We walked cautiously into the room, people finding their spots across the floor, and I kept my eyes on the boy at the front, waiting to see his face. He was down on the ground, crouching in front of a set of speakers and flicking through his phone, silent as we all gathered ourselves. The three of us found a spot, pretty central, and I watched him the whole time, eager for him to turn around so I could finally have an answer to the question that had been burning at my mind. I knew the second he turned around that it wasn’t the man who had stolen from me and bruised my throat a week prior, but he still managed to completely take me by surprise. He was tall, almost obnoxiously handsome, his short hair held back by a tattered bandana and his frame so broad I felt my breath hit the back of my throat with a force I hadn’t been expecting. The guy who’d ran the previous sessions was much older than us, but this new guy must have been around our age. I’d half been expecting yet another weird middle-aged man to be running the sessions, but this boy certainly wasn’t like that. He smiled softly as he looked around the room, clearly just about to introduce himself and present what was going to happen, until he spotted me, and his smile dropped. “You alright?” He directed specifically to me. “Huh?” “Your neck.” “Oh! Yeah… I… Yeah, I’m fine.” He gaged me a little further, licking over his lips with thin eyes, before ticking his head back and signalling for me to step towards him. I moved from my spot, cautiously approaching him. “Uh, can everyone just do a few basic warm ups?” He addressed the room as I closed the gap between us. “Anything from star-jumps to lunges will be fine, just get yourself ready.” I was with him in seconds, my hands gripped down at my side and my nerves rising by the second. I stopped ahead of him, and being so close meant that I was completely unable to ignore just how gorgeous he was. He had bright green eyes, lightly tanned skin and the beginning shreds of facial hair that looked soft and was clearly an adorable attempt to grow both a beard and a moustache. I felt like I couldn’t take my eyes off him, no matter how nervous I became beneath his tender gaze. “What’s ya name?” He asked quietly. “Alfie.” “Alfie, this first one is gunna be mainly exercise work and it’s gunna put some stress on your body that I’m not sure you’re quite ready for yet.” “Honestly, it’s fine!” I tried. “I don’t wanna risk it.” He shrugged. “I’m happy for you to stay and watch, and I won’t charge! But I’d feel much more comfortable if you sat this one out. That okay?” To say I’d been dreading going ever since Libby told me about the classes, I felt weirdly disappointed that I wasn’t going to take part. Maybe it was just because I finally knew that the guy running them wasn’t who I thought he might have been, or maybe it was because he was so enchanting that I immediately wanted to learn from him. I wanted to listen to him speak and hear what he had to say and experience the lesson he had planned fully. I sighed, nodding slightly. “That’s fine. I’m still gunna pay though.” “You don’t have to.” “No, I want to. My neck is fine though!” “The brace says different.” He grinned. “Sit yourself down, relax, okay? You seem tense.” I nodded, mumbling a quiet thank you before I scuttled off to the side of the room and plonked myself down with my back against the wall, the girls shooting me looks before I pointed at the neck brace, and then they seemed to quickly catch onto why I was having to take the first lesson from the side-lines. Once I was settled, he stepped forward once again, whistling to grab the rooms attention and bring the rather poor attempts at warming up to a standstill. “Uh… Hi, I’m Harry, and thank you all for coming to my first class.” He began, his soft exterior seeming to vanish the more he spoke, and how he was now choosing to hold himself. “I appreciate you all being here, but there are some things I need to make clear before I start things up.” He began walking around the room, weaving between women who all kept their eyes on him at all times, gazing at him almost wistfully as he sauntered around the room, and he owned every single one of us in those moments. With minimal effort and barely any words shared, we were all his, entirely. “I don’t provide average lessons. I don’t work by a formula. I don’t tell you what you should expect and what you should fear. I want to work as a team, with all of you, and figure out the threats you feel and face in your day to day life and build these classes around you. Your wants and your needs.” I wondered briefly, if that was what he did. We knew he was new to Rosebury, and I wondered if he spent his life moving from one place to the next and holding these sessions in different environments, different places and maybe even different countries, holding classes that were exclusively catered for the people who were there attending them, and the location in which they lived. I wondered if he’d just come from a city, somewhere where the threats must have been much higher than what we all experienced in our lives. I wondered if that was how he worked, and that we would be his team until we all felt his work was done, and then he’d pack up and leave and take his sessions to a new group of women and work with them, and work to their needs. “I want you to tell me what you want, and no matter what it is, I will do my best to teach you the skill you’re after.” He continued, jaw tight and eyes searching confidently across eager faces. “I don’t just teach you how to defend yourselves, I can teach you how to fight. I can teach you how to kill, if that’s what you want. So if any of you aren’t comfortable with that, you should leave now.” There was a slight grumbling that echoed around the room for just a few moments, but everyone stayed put, even though I spotted one woman, Betty, who I knew was around 70 who definitely looked a little hesitant, but she stood her ground and stomached it. Harry moved back to the front of the room, eyeing up literally everyone there one by one, his hands behind his back. I gave myself a moment to admire his broad frame. The tight t-shirt he had on gave everyone a clear view of the toned body beneath it, the dark cloth clinging to his abs. He had an abundance of tattoos running up his left arm, a few scattered across his right, and I was already well aware that myself and the girls would end up gossiping about how gorgeous he was as soon as the session was done. “I’m going to start an exercise routine that will last exactly an hour, with no breaks.” He told us. “All you need to do it follow my lead. It’s not easy, and whenever you need to stop, please do. That’s part of what this exercise is. We’ll do the same thing, every few months, and I want you to get a little bit further in the exercise every single time. So, if and when you know you’ve reached your limit, lift your hand, and then go sit down with…” He turned to, waiting for me to announce myself, being the one and only person who was already sitting it out. “Alfie.” I grumbled nervously, telling him my name once again. “Take a seat with Alfie.” He nodded. Everyone mumbled their understanding of the setup, Harry nodding with a smile to them all before going back over to the speakers on the ground and pressing play, opening up with The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.
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I had watched the entire routine, witnessed the women dropping like flies, one by one. The last woman left standing was Chloe, but even she hadn’t managed to complete the workout he had set up. There had been jogging, star-jumps, press-ups, boxing, Zumba-esque periods, and basically enough to make me tired just from watching. Chloe had done 45 minutes, meaning she’d very almost completed the entire routine, before she raised her hand and practically collapsed on the floor. Harry was at the front when that happened with a huge smile on his face, barely looking like he’d broken a sweat despite the fact he’d done the whole thing with twice as much stamina as anyone else. It was impressive and almost infuriating and the whole thing had looked so intense I was half tempted never to return there again just in the hope of not going through that workout. He wasn’t just going to teach us how to defend ourselves, he was going to work us to the damn bone, that much was clear. Once everyone had caught their breath, and after a brief scare of little Betty almost passing out, Harry had said thank you and that he hoped to see us all again the following week, and we made our way out of there. I waited behind a little, shuffling awkwardly on my feet as everyone spilled out of the room, wanting to just catch our new tutor on his own for a moment. As soon as the door clicked into place and it was just the two of us, I spoke, taking his attention away from his phone. “That was great, by the way.” He whipped his head up to me. “Oh.” He seemed baffled. “Thanks.” “I just wanted to say… I’m fine. It’s just some bruising, so… next week, no matter what hideous workout you have planned, because that looked painful,” He sniggered. “I’d like to join in.” “Um… It’s kinda my responsibility to look after you when you’re in the room, so-” “Tell that to Betty! You almost killed her!” He laughed again, his brows lowering but keeping his eyes on me. “Yeah, and that was a scary fucking time for me!” He cried. “I’ll be the judge of it next week.” “Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “Is that why you’re here?” “Huh?” “What happened to your neck. Is that why you’re here?” It was clear that Harry had been doing those classes for a while, even though that was his first class in Rosebury. He seemed too comfortable and too sure of himself for it to be his first lesson. I wondered how many injuries he had seen in his time. I wondered how many frightened women he had come across who had experienced much worse than me and gone to him seeking guidance and strength. I looked to the floor momentarily, feeling low. “Yeah.” I grumbled. “Some… guy- Yeah. Yeah, that’s why I’m here.” “Are you alright?” “I’m fine. And… everyone knows everyone’s business here, so I think that’s why there were so many people here today. It only happened last week, and I think everyone’s feeling a bit… on edge. So, you’re welcome for the packed-out room.” I tried to joke. He didn’t seem amused, taking a few small steps in my direction. “M'gunna try and make you feel safe again, okay?” He spoke so directly, so solemnly, that the humour I’d been using as a guise disappeared, and instead tears filled my eyes and I nodded, because that was exactly what I wanted. “Thank you.” I mumbled, backing away from him. “I’ll see you next week.” He didn’t say another word as I walked out of the room, he just watched me go, gathering myself quite quickly so by the time I was out on the hall it didn’t look as though I’d just been crying, just in time for the door to shut and for Chloe to punch my arm with quite some strength. “OW!” I cried. “What was that for?” “Did you ask him to come to the pub tonight?” She put her hands on her hips, eyes wide. “What? No. Why would I do that?” “Chloe thinks he may be her future husband.” Libby sighed, eyes in the back of her head. “We need to befriend him!” Chloe continued, looking genuinely annoyed that I hadn’t already been miraculously aware that I should have invited him to the pub that evening. “He’s new in town, he’s probably lonely, he looks our age, and yes, maybe I have already started planning the wedding, what of it?” “Well then you go ask him!” I befuddled. “You should go, you’ve already chatted to him.” “Chloe-” “Nope, go on!” Libby grabbed hold of the handle as Chloe started pushing me back inside. “Off you pop!” “Are you losing your fucking mind?” I stumbled. “Be nice!” I practically fell back into the gym and the door was slammed behind me as I found my balance and spun around so I was facing him, immediately noting the look on his face, somewhere between confusion and horror. “Hi!” I blurted. “Y’alright?” “Sorry, yeah, we were just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come to the pub tonight?” He didn’t say anything, he just looked more confused. “Um, like I said, everyone knows everyone’s business here, so we know you’re new and you’ve come here on your own. I think?” “Yup. Just me.” “Well, there’s a group of us, I think we’re around your age, and we’re all pretty decent people. So… I dunno, if you’re looking to make friends, we’re gunna be in The Tin Mouse at like nine tonight. Sorry, I know this is weird.” “Nah, it’s not weird.” He shook his head. “That’s really nice, I’d love to come.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s… a scary thing, moving somewhere new and kinda… trying to build a life. I really appreciate the offer.” “Okay, good! Well, we’ll see you later then.” I swiftly began my exit. “Hold the door, I’m leaving now anyway.” I scuttled off towards the exit, opening up and stepping out into the hall, being grilled within a second. “IS HE COMING?” “Shh, woman!” I hissed at Chloe, jolting my head back in his direction as I held the door for him. Thankfully, she caught on quite quickly, all three of us watching him swing his rucksack over his shoulder and follow me out into the hall, a puzzled smile perking his lips. “Y’alright, girls?” He greeted. Libby giggled like a child whilst Chloe just stared at him with her mouth agape, and all I could think was how he was probably praying it wouldn’t just be us three at the pub that night because they were acting so bloody weird. I couldn’t believe that it was me of all people who was managing to keep my calm and not drool at the bloody sight of him. He locked up behind himself as we all trailed back down the corridor and down the stairs leading us outdoors in complete silence, feeling sort of awkward because it was clear the girls were ready to burst and quiz me and find out what he’d said in the very brief time I’d been in that room. Once we were outside, the three of us gathered as Harry locked the second door, sort of lingering for some reason, like we were waiting for him, which probably made him feel even more awkward. “So… I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.” He smiled. “Yeah, see you soon!” I returned, the girls still just bloody staring at him. He gave us a friendly grin before turning his back to us and turning the street corner, the three of us watching him like hawks and almost collapsing when we saw him jumping onto the back of a motorbike, attaching nothing but a glittery helmet to his head and then revving up and taking off, zooming down the previously quiet country road. All stood in a row, we watched him go, and I swear he was already the most interesting thing that had happened to our tiny village in a long time, despite recent events. “My vagina is literally tingling.” Chloe exhaled.
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be-dazzled · 5 years
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#TheVampireTales #VampireGruvia  Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet link: click here Author: K.T. Adlam Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Romance
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail and its characters nor associated with its franchise. All rights reserved to Hiro Mashima, original creator and illustrator. All circumstances found in this story is fictional and all persons, places or events in this book same in real life are purely coincidence. The Vampire Tales rights reserved to K.T. Adlam, writer.
Lucy Heartfilia checked her wrist watch. She has been sitting around the infirmary for a little more than half an hour. The silence was uncomfortable and only the sound of machines being attached filled the room. Lucy had never even seen those machines in her life. She wished she never had to.
 The woman in the white gown busied herself around the patient’s bed. The figure lying on the bed was still but her chest heaved up and down. At least, that was a good sign. The tension only fell away when the doctor finally addressed the Student Council President – Erza Scarlet, who waited with Lucy the entire time.
 “Your Highness, the student’s condition is finally stable.” She informed. “I am aware of your other concern but for now we need to let her rest.”
 “I understand, Doctor.”
 As the two discussed a few more things, Lucy walked over the patient’s bed. Despite the grimy dirt on her face, the young blond recognized the girl as one of her classmates – Jenny Realight. The popular Jenny Realight, young and beautiful, was now lying unconscious on the infirmary bed. Dress was smudged with blood and dirt. Face drained of color. Lucy could not believe that the Jenny she knew and the girl before her was the same person. She felt bad for her. Jenny might not have been the nicest person on the planet but she did not deserve what happened to her.
 As Lucy turned to leave, she felt the end of her shirt pull back. At first, she thought it got caught on something on the bed. But as the young blond turned back around to check, pale fingers lightly gripped at the end of her shirt. Her bewildered gaze moved from the hand to the face of its owner. Lucy gasped.
 Jenny was awake but she looked like she was in shock. Her usual sharp blue eyes turned glassy, staring at and through Lucy. Then she suddenly seemed to see Lucy. Jenny’s cracked lips parted and began to move. She was saying something but her voice struggled to come out.
 “Erza?” Lucy called out. “Erza, hurry!”
 Jenny’s grip had no force; as if her bones were made of jelly. She was still recovering from the loss of blood. Doctor Daphne and Erza crowded around her, with the Student Council President ordering the other members to stand back. She did not want their presence to suffocate the victim.
 “Ms. Realight, you need to rest.” Doctor Daphne coaxed. She worried that speaking became laborious for the girl.
 Jenny did not seem to hear the doctor though. The girl finally managed to speak, her voice raspy. She tugged on Lucy’s shirt where her fingers clung on. In the faintest whisper she was able to say something – a single name which she kept repeating in a trance.
 The Tuesday heat intensified as the day transitioned from morning to afternoon. Juvia could feel the intensity almost to a point of burning her skin. It did not. With her sun ring on, the vampire’s usual adversary became a friend. However, the sweet treat inside Juvia’s mug wasn’t so lucky. The Ben&Jerry’s Bloody Mary was melting into cream without the ice.
 Mr. Groh sent his class home for the day. As it was still early in the afternoon, Mira gathered her herd in the kitchen and placed a tube of ice cream at the granite island in the middle of it. It was too early for cocktails anyway.
 “Can you believe what just happened?”
 The question only passed through Juvia’s ear and out the other. She was not really listening. Her mind was somewhere else.
 “I could tell it was a work of a vampire, a sloppy one that is.”
 Mira shared her observation to a rather uninterested crowd. She glanced over at the royal blood sitting right beside her. Juvia was in a daze. She stared at her mug of untouched ice cream; spinning the teaspoon around distractedly. Unsure what to make of it, Mira turned to the prince seated opposite her, blue eyes beseeching. Prince Knight could offer no answer.
 “Earth to Juvia, hello!”
 Juvia jumped when she heard Mira yell ‘hello’. It quickly snapped her out of her daze. Mira’s disapproving blue eyes narrowed at her, reminding Juvia of basic etiquette: listen when someone was talking.
 “Did you hear what I said?”
 “I’m sorry.” Juvia apologized; guilty for acting disrespectful towards the older vampire. “What were you saying?”
 “I said–”
 “–Is something bothering you, Juvia?”
 Startled blue eyes landed on the owner of the distinctly authoritative voice who spoke over Mirajane. Juvia processed his question. What had been she thinking since this morning? Until they came into the Mansion? Until she sat at the kitchen island where she was now?
 “The girl…” Juvia started. The image of the young victim, bloodied, unconscious and was limply carried into the campus’ premises, was burned in her mind. “Do you think she’ll survive?”
 The question caught the two royal bloods off-guard, evident when Juvia was answered with momentary silence. The tension cut through the room as if Juvia said something taboo.
 “I just think that… If the Council finds out about this.” Juvia did not need to continue; Knight and Mira knew exactly where she was driving at.
 “They will find out about it sooner or later.” Mirajane interrupted. “That’s inevitable.”
 The oldest vampire could only imagine how the Council would react. A defenseless young woman was left in the woods for dead. As if she was some kind of animal. It was the highest form of violation in the law on feeding. It wouldn’t even matter if the victim survived as in the case of Jenny. The Royal Council would be unforgiving. Once the news reached them, all hell would break lose.
 “And speaking of Royal Council.” Mira jumped at the opportunity to change the subject. “Has anyone seen Gajeel? I haven’t seen him since this morning.”
 “You know Gajeel, he’ll turn up whenever he wants to.” Knight answered nonchalantly.
 “You beautiful people talking about me?”
 The owner of the voice appeared at the archway into the kitchen. Tall and toned, cladded in plain black V-neck and worn-out jeans. His long dark hair was pushed back and a little wet, like he just came out of the shower. All fresh and sexy, a dangerous combination.
 In a blur of movement, the newly arrived prince stood next to the fridge, opened it and scanned the contents.
 “I’m a little bit offended. You guys are having an ice cream party and did not invite me.”
 The Prince of the West Kingdom took mock offense. When Mira told him to grab a mug and join them, he took out a blood bag from the refrigerator instead.
 “Someone’s in a good mood.” Knight declared, offering the empty seat beside him to Gajeel.
 “That makes one of us.” Gajeel took his offer but not before he poked fun at Knight and the others, red eyes teasing.
 “And unlike you people turning yourselves in at eleven like a bunch of grandmas,” He took a sip out of the blood bag and emptied it in half. “I enjoyed every bit of my youth last night.”
 Gajeel painstakingly licked the crimson stain on his fangs.
 “And this morning.”
 He flashed the three a suggestive wink. A conqueror’s pride glazed over his lopsided smile.
 Gajeel unceremoniously emptied the blood bag in his hand, not missing a single drop. Every drop of blood counted.
 “By the way,” He raised a thick brow, suddenly remembering something. “Why are you guys home early?”
 “Well, something happened at school today.” As she was about to relay the events that transpired, Mira was suddenly interrupted by the door ringing.
 Four royal heads turned toward the archway.
 “Oh, we have visitors.” Gajeel announced. “We rarely have one.” He spun from his sit and offered to answer the door. The Prince was such in the spirits to be a little welcoming today.
 The dark-haired prince left the kitchen as quick as his vampire speed could make him. He now stood by the door, turned the knob and pulled it open to greet the Dreyar Mansion’s first visitor.
 “Well, hello, Your Highness.”
 The prince leaned against the doorframe – cool and casual. A dark, taunting smile fell upon his lips – Prince Gajeel’s signature. His good mood rippled all around him.
 “Forgot your keys?”
 Gajeel was not surprised to see the new royal behind the door. It puzzled him, however, that she had to knock into her own house.
 “Your Highness, would you let us in.”
 The moment Erza Scarlet mentioned the word ‘us’, Gajeel’s bright eyes loitered about the men behind her. He didn’t notice them at first. His trained eyes only recognized beauty. The men behind looked like a weird bunch. Yet, the prince shrugged it off. He did not want to invite any gloomy cloud on his otherwise sunny day.
 “My pleasure.”
 The Redfox Prince stepped aside and extended his free hand toward inside as an invitation. As each guest walked in and past him, Gajeel could sense the brave act the boys were trying to put on. The prince suppressed a snicker. He could smell their fear. But not from Erza. She smelled like strawberries.
 “You should really drop that pity party. It’s not a good look on royalty.” Gajeel managed to slip in a snarky comment when Erza entered the Mansion last.
 Inside, as social customs would dictate, the three royal residents fell in a line to greet their guests. Being the first in the line of the third generation royal vampire blood, Mirajane was the one who offered the seats to the parlor and led the way. The other royals fell in the background and let her take charge.
 “So, what can we offer our guests? Drinks, maybe?” Mira invited to which Erza politely declined.
 “We would like to first introduce ourselves, Your Highness.”
 Erza stood and bowed before the royal quartet; a sign of courtesy. The others did the same.
 “Geez. No need for formalities, Princess Erza.” Mira waved her off. It felt strange to be addressed by the girl so formally. “This is your house too.” She said and put on her most radiant smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.
 However, it seemed like Erza wasn’t listening. She raised her head from the customary bow. Then brown eagle eyes met Mira’s charming blue ones.
 “We are the members of the Academy’s Student Council. We apologize for coming without prior notice.”
 Mira could sense the skeptic thoughts from behind her. Just like Gajeel, the princess thought that people who apologized for dropping in unannounced were not really sorry. They rarely were.
 “I am sure you are aware of what happened earlier this morning. The girl was from our class. The doctor said her condition is stable but she lost a lot of blood.”
 Mira could sense that Erza was tiptoeing around eggshells. She was hiding something, not wanting to tip her hand. About what? A primeval instinct coursed through her, putting the now suspecting princess on her toes. She made a decision. If she wanted to get to the bottom of things, Mira needed to gather information.
 “Did they find out who did it?” Mira asked, engaging Erza.
 “No. Not yet.”
 Mira waited for her to continue but only silence followed. She could tell that Erza was searching for answers too. Erza was purposely evasive. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Blue guarded eyes landed on the ruby crystal on Erza’s ring finger. If Queen Lyssandra did not give her the ring, Mira could easily rummage her mind for information.
 The silence stretched and brewed tension inside the parlor; so thick every person in that room could taste it.
 “I see. Have you contacted her parents?”
 “No–”
 “–But that’s not our concern.”
 The boy seated next to the young redhead interrupted, sounding and looking impatient. Perhaps he knew Jenny. By the way his eyes narrowed at them, Mira could tell that he knew the victim personally. But he had no right to interrupt; especially not in the presence of royalty.
 Mira matched his angry, accusing eyes and she saw his face twist in alarm. No more Miss Nice Girl, Mira thought. As the visit turned unfriendly, the senior royal addressed the group in a serious and detached tone.
 “Then what is your purpose for coming here?”
 Erza placed her hand on top of the boy’s who just spoke, gripping it tight as a warning. It was too late. The friendliness left the hostess’ voice and was replaced with vile hostility which quickly multiplied into three.
 “As members of the Academy’s Student Council, we are here to ask questions regarding the whereabouts of His Highness, Prince Gajeel last ni–”
 “Get out.”
 Erza’s statement was cut-off quickly. Mirajane towered over her; charming turned deadly. While she maintained her composure, her calmness should not be mistaken as kindness; it was a ticking time bomb.
 “You live here, Erza. You know where the door is.”
 As the speaker turned to retire, the boy who interrupted earlier quickly got to his feet. His eyes were raging with contempt and his jaw was set by anger. He reached a hand to stop the princess by the shoulder only to touch nothing. Instead, a firm grip hanged his extended arm in the air. His view was quickly blocked, a black shirt occupying it instead.
 “Where do you think you’re touching?”
 Gajeel suddenly appeared in front of the boy, serving as human barricade between the Southern Princess and the latter. His eyes were wide in anger. The playfulness in them was long gone.
 “You heard the Princess. Leave.”
 The grip by the boy’s wrist tightened with a force that caused him to twitch. A suppressed groan escaped his lips and it was not hard to miss. Not with a vampire’s super hearing. The grip was so tight that the boy was sure his bones were going to break. Before it did, the Prince released him. His fingers formed red imprint on the boy’s skin; something to commemorate the day.
 “Get out or this will be the last face you’ll see before you learn to walk again.”
 The boy had never seen evil but he thought he saw a glimpse of it as he stared at Gajeel’s red raging eyes.
Writer’s Corner: My last update was December! I am such a slow writer. As I said before, this is my most ambitious fanfiction to date. So many characters and plot and subplot and a whole lot. But I want to see it through so please do fuel me some reviews. Thoughts?
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odderancyart · 5 years
Text
A Few Days of Late Autumn
Happy Birthday, @kyuko-chan!!!
Here’s some Blackcherry High School AU!
...
26 October
We got a new classmate today. The entire school buzzed with the news this morning as gossip spread through the hallways. According to them, he had been expelled from the Royal Academy, which obviously means he must be rich as fuck: the Royal Academy is only for the absolute elite, after all. The children of politicians, CEOs, nobility.
Early this morning, while the sun still was low on the sky, I sat in my chair in the classroom – clad in high-heeled black boots, which I had polished until they basically shimmered in the light from the lamps, black and white striped jeans, and my hot pink turtleneck – with my feet thrown up on the table while Slim slept in his seat next to Blue (the idiot needs to go to bed earlier, for fuck’s sake, it’s not strange he’s always exhausted), and Jennifer was yelling about the latest episode of her favourite show, or whatever. Wow holy hell that’s one long sentence, huh? Anyway, that’s when we heard the doorknob turn. I threw my legs of the table, sitting properly, just in time before Ms. Toriel (our principal) stepped inside. I could see Blue elbow Slim awake in the corner of my eye.
Following Ms. Toriel, who as always wore a perfectly neat suit and, as always, was sneering – was the new kid. As I first saw him, I froze. I might’ve forgotten to breathe too? Not sure. He has a jagged scar running down over his eye socket, a bit like mine but less clean. A gold tooth, which gleamed in the sunlight coming in through the window. And he certainly knows how to dress: biker boots, torn jeans, and a black shirt with the Anarchy-symbol in red. Which, admittedly, is kind of weird from a member of the uppermost class, but whatever.
The most noticeable thing, however, was the fact that he had a cocky smirk on his face. I’ve never seen anyone look cocky in Ms. Toriel’s presence: she is fucking terrifying.
And yes, I admit. He’s fucking hot.
Seems like an asshole though, and a different kind than me. He leaned against the desk, despite Ms. Toriel’s awful glares, as she introduced him. “This is Red Gaster,” she said, and her dislike was very obviously in her voice. He didn’t seem bothered, though. Whispers filled the classroom – everyone knows the name Gaster. Is he related to Dr Gaster? The King’s advisor? He must be, mustn’t he? How many Gaster families can there be? “He will be joining your class from now on. Mr. Gaster, is there anything you’d like to tell your new classmates?”
“Hiya,” he told us, saluting lazily. His grin widened. “Nice to meetcha.”
His accent is… offensive. That’s all I can fucking say. That’s our accent, and it’s easy to hear it’s been trained in; and I can literally only think of one reason someone from his class would want to speak like us. I’ve heard what people say about it, after all. Heard how people judge those who speak like that. There’s a reason I’m training mine away. I highly doubt I will get anywhere in life while speaking like a ‘gutter rat’. But he can afford the luxury to sound like that for his own amusement, I suppose. If he’s a part of the Gasters, he can do whatever the fuck he wants and face zero consequences. Everyone would hire a Gaster, or let one into their university.
Fucking unfair. Bet I’m smarter than him.
Probably stronger too, even if he has big bones.
Life is unfair. That’s a lesson we’re taught early around here. No one will give a damn about you when you’re poor and working class. We’ve only got ourselves.
Well. Then Ms. Toriel gestured for him to sit, which he did, in the only free seat. Which happened to be the one next to me. I had known he’d sit next to me, obviously, since I saw the added seat when I entered the classroom, but my soul still skipped a beat and I wasn’t sure what to do because fuck he’s hot but god he already makes me angry.
So I just nodded.
“Hello,” he said and made himself comfortable, and then our teacher entered and began the lesson.
Even though he made one or two attempts on talking with me I didn’t humour him: I don’t talk during class. Even if I was tempted, for some reason. If I did, I’d never learn anything, get detention, and get stuck in this shithole forever, and I have aspirations. Not a goddamn chance I’ll let some random, if good-looking, stranger stop me from reaching my dreams.
Later that day, as I was hanging out with Blue and Alphys at lunch – I still regret introducing them goddammit they won’t stop ganging up on me and they’re both committing treason – we saw Red hanging over the fence. He was talking with another skeleton in a fancy suit – the school uniform of the Royal Academy, I believe. Their suit was lazily put on, though, and their tie not even tied. Fucking hell that’s so ungrateful. And I heard him say, “Yeah I’ll take this school with storm, man. They won’t know what hit them.”
Which is bullshit. Watch this privileged asshole not surviving a week in a public high school. I am shocked he didn’t throw a fit when he saw the food.
 27 October
Alright… I admit, he’s fitting in surprisingly well. Still a fucking asshole, but perhaps our kind of asshole rather than the kind I expected from someone from the cream of society. He’s absolutely related to Dr Gaster, though, seeing how a tall skeleton who appears to be his brother – who is also handsome as fuck why that’s so unfair – in a fancy red cabriolet which carried Gaster Industries’ mark picked him up after school yesterday. And today he came on a fucking motorcycle. Because of course he has a motorcycle. Of course he drives motorcycles.
It’s beautiful. Sleek and black with red details. A Ducati. Oh my stars I- Oh fuck it yeah I am jealous as hell it’s absolutely gorgeous and I’ve been dreaming about driving one like it for years. One day, Razz. One day. I technically don’t even have my license yet, even though I can drive: I had a neighbour teach me, but we can’t afford the license for now. Once I get a job, that’ll be the first thing I save up to buy. And then, I will get a beauty of my own.
God I am squeezing my pen so hard right now. I want one so badly.
But back to Red: We sat together in class again, and we actually talked a little before class began. He seems to have learnt not to talk to me while class is going on already, that’s good. Today I was wearing a black and red rockabilly-dress, by the way, that I found in the thrift shop last weekend. It’s absolutely gorgeous. I think he noticed, I saw his gaze on it. That did feel nice. I do appreciate when people, even if they’re assholes, can recognize my beauty and sense of style.
Actually I think I like him a bit more now. Just a tad.
I did find out he doesn’t live at home. Imagine being able to move out at eighteen. I’d love to but well. Even if I could afford it, that’d end in catastrophe, because neither dad nor Slim knows how the fuck to care for themselves. When I came to visit they’d live in chaos and eat instant noodles for dinner every day. What would they do without me? How the fuck did we survive until I started taking charge, anyway? I mean dad can manage, obviously, but his standards are much too low.
So Red lives in an apartment just at the border between our side of town and the finer parts. Only two blocks away from another, richer, school district. And he has a brother, as I suspected, who is still at the Royal Academy and is planning on becoming a Police officer, and the dude I saw him talking to yesterday is his best friend and distant relative (second cousin thrice removed or something), Sans Gaster. And yes, he’s the fucking oldest son of Doctor Gaster, the country’s most prominent scientist and the King’s right-fucking-hand. What the fuck.
What the hell did he do to get expelled? Did he kill someone?
Anyway I have a History-essay to write, on the great monster-human war and how the Treaty was written.
 28 October
It’s Friday! Blue and I am going out on the new club down the corner, it looks awesome. Dad doesn’t want me to go, of course, he’s overprotective as always, but he knows by now that’s not going to stop me. It’s going to be great. Especially since I’ve already finished my homework for the weekend and so it doesn’t matter if we drink and stay up to six am and sleep until noon. Plus, I finally get a chance to wear my latest find: this short, black dress that’s all glittery. It’s fabulous, especially with a black leather jacket.
 29 October
I-
Last night-
Fuck.
I don’t even know how to write this down.
I’ll take it from the beginning.
So Blue and I went to the new club, and we looked fantastic. He had torn jeans and a tank top in dark gold with a leather jacket over, and I had my dress. The music from the nightclub was loud already before we came there, we could hear it down the streets. (I don’t imagine the residents were too happy but whatever.) After showing ID, we were soon allowed inside, luckily there was no queue.
And the inside was every bit as cool as we’d hoped. Flashing lights in rainbow colours, a dancefloor, a fucking smoke machine. The bar was crowded and served the most amazing drinks and it was so much fun. We danced for hours and probably drank a little too much, but we’re eighteen and it’s weekend so it was whatever. I haven’t had so much fun in weeks, and Blue chatted up this pretty girl inside. Not sure if he likes her or if it was just him being tipsy. Blue does become a flirt when he’s drunk he’ll even flirt with me. It’s hilarious. I mean he’s smooth as fuck, not denying that, but anyone would think it’s funny when your best friend-since-childhood is drunken-flirting with you and asking you stuff like “Are you a SAT? ‘Cause I’d do you for three hours and forty five minutes- with a ten minute snack break in the middle.”
Like I said, hilarious. I love drunk Blue.
But when we were going home. It was four am. And I don’t remember all of it, but I know what happened, more or less. We were tired, and giggly, and more than a little drunk. Being drunk doesn’t take away a lifetime of being on your guard, at least not for me, but it does take away my reflexes. Stupid. Why did I ever expect to be safe? Pure idiocy.
And suddenly we were surrounded. I can see them before my eyes. There were at least five of them, they were huge like mountains. And their eyes- So cold, so cruel. So greedy. I’m shivering at the memory of how their eyes racked over our bodies, like we were objects. I felt like someone had doused me in ice water and nausea rose that had nothing to do with me being drunk. It was terrifying. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can fight, but again I was drunk and they were many, and bigger.
“Well, well,” one of them murmured, leaning toward me. I felt his breath on my face, gross and foul-smelling. They’d cornered us, and he put his arm next to the wall, and I threw out with my arm over Blue. He’s not innocent or weak in any way but he hasn’t been through the shit I have. So I feel like I should protect him, even if he hates it. “What do we have here?”
“Leave us alone,” Blue said, defiant as always. I could hear his voice tremble, though, and I think they did too because they laughed. Laughed.
Fury spiked through me and it only grew as another one added, “What’s two little sweethearts such as yourselves doing out here all alone, in the middle of the night? Lookin’ for some action?”
I punched the one in front of me. Straight in the face. And as he staggered backwards in shock, as the others processed, I grabbed Blue and ran. I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through me and my soul pounding in terror as we ran as fast as we could through the streets, hear the fast clicking of our shoes against the pavement. My mouth was dry as sand and I wasn’t even looking where I was going because I saw them follow us, yelling angrily. They were furious. Who knows what they’d do to us if they caught up?
We turned around the corner, and Blue was just a step before me now because he’s the fastest runner, and we ran straight into something soft on the other side. I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I forgot how to breathe, before I recognized the faces. Red. Red and his friend, Sans.
They stared at us for a moment before they heard the shouts, and I didn’t even know what to do so I grabbed Red’s wrist and pulled, yelling at him that we had to get out of here they were going to- I didn’t finish the sentence. I was afraid of what they were going to do when I couldn’t even access my magic because of the intoxication.
I’ve never seen anyone look so similar to dad as Red did in that moment. The absolute fury on his face, and he moved my hand to Sans, and Sans grabbed Blue. They only nodded at each other and then Sans pulled us into an alley nearby.
I remember screaming.
We were worried about Red, Blue and I – who wouldn’t be, apparently he was about to take on five men at once. But Sans, after introducing himself with a short “The name’s Sans,” told us to worry about our followers instead and I really didn’t give a flying fuck about them. My heart was still pounding so hard I wondered if it was trying to escape my chest as I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds.
Then, a Police siren came from the distance, and Red appeared in the entrance of the alley. “Oh fuck. Time ta leave.”
He and Sans brought us to Red’s apartment, which wasn’t too far away. They picked out some warm blankets for us and sat us down in the sofa. Red made hot chocolate for us both but I couldn’t finish it before I fell asleep. On Red’s shoulder. The next morning Blue and I woke up in Red’s bed, with the world’s biggest hangovers, and my soul was in my throat as I realized where we were, but I didn’t need to worry. He and Sans had both slept on air mattresses on the floor. That’s… surprisingly considerate, isn’t it?
They made us breakfast and ginger tea against the hangover, and Red told us what had happened last night, how he’d beaten up those creeps. He’s battle-trained, says his father made both him and his brother learn how to fight remorselessly. Which… okay yeah that’s attractive.
Now when we finally felt safe again, I listened and honestly? I can’t deny that he’s… nice. I… yeah. He’s nice. But that doesn’t at all explain why I constantly felt the urge to reach out and touch him when we were eating breakfast, or why I blushed as he complimented my dress. I’m confused and it’s annoying. The weirdest thing is that, when he patted my shoulder when Blue and I were going home, I didn’t want him to let go, and felt intensely aware of his handsomeness.
 1 November
Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Yeah.
I spoke with Blue about it and he says I have a crush.
Dammit.
3 November
I have so much to write.
The past two days have been a rollercoaster and I’m all giddy right now. Slim actually checked in on me to see I’m alright because I was giggling to much. So yeah I absolutely had a crush on Red. And when we went back to school this Monday it felt kind of awkward and my soul did flips when he asked if I was okay. It might’ve been a little hard to speak to him too without stumbling over my words but I’m not confirming anything.
But he hung out with us all day, and he’s so fucking charming? I’m still thinking whether I should mention his accent or not, but god. He has these super dark jokes, and they’re the funniest thing, and I also found out he lets giggly. So I hung out with him after school and we went to the Starbucks on the corner and drank coffee, and he also tipped the barista really well. And we have so much in common? He was very happy to tell me about his motorcycle and we talked about astronomy and it just… worked.
It was kind of sad when I had to go home. But then- then.
He asked me out on a date.
And I gaped and could hardly answer him for a few moments, and he looked so adorably anxious as he smiled at me, and then I just threw myself around his neck and said yes, of course.
So after school today he brought me out on his motorcycle outside of town and it was amazing. I sat behind him on it, holding around his waist, as the landscape flashed by and the motor purred so wonderfully, and he was really warm in the chill of late autumn. We stopped at a biker bar far out on the countryside, where he seemed to know quite a lot of people. It was really nice, with an old jukebox and dim lights and, apparently, rivalling biker gangs who weren’t allowed to fight in there or they’d be forbidden to come back.
Red bought us soda and pommes and burgers, and we just sat there and talked and ate, and somehow, we began holding hands. I can still feel his fingers around mine. So warm and gentle. He smiled and told me, “You’re lovely.”
And then, on the way back, he let me drive a bit. And it was brilliant. His arms around me, and I couldn’t stop grinning as the motorcycle reacted to my smallest command. It was so… Oh, he leaned his head against my helmet and his ribcage against my back, my leather jacket, and we flew past nature on the empty highway, it was magical.
Unfortunately, the day ended much too soon, and he brought us back into town. And as he dropped me off, he hesitated, and he looked so handsome in the dim light of sunset in his biker jacket, and then he dismounted the bike, and slowly leaned in toward me until I could feel his warm breath on my face, and asked, “May I?”
I nodded, breathless, and he kissed me softly, embracing my waist. I grasped his face between my hands and held him, and I felt him smile into the kiss.
I couldn’t stop smiling as I stared after him as he jumped back on his bike and left, looking back before he disappeared around the corner. Then I went back in and told dad to shut up about my love life I’m legally an adult now and he can’t tell me what to do.
Oh stars I’m so happy I can feel my entire body tingling. I can’t wait for our next date.
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writeallofthethings · 5 years
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Spinach and Candy have wagged a war over every character you’ve ever loved. Candy has been loudly launching grenades at spinach, while spinach tries to infiltrate the candy base and steal their flag. Not only is the fate of the character at stake in these battles, but so is the tone of the story, and the audience’s interest in the story’s outcome.
What I am talking about here? Let’s pretend for a second that we’re reading a story about a girl named Jane. Maybe Jane is a good person, maybe she isn’t, what matters is that Jane is a person we’re rooting for. We want her to succeed.
Candy
Candy is any story element that glorifies Jane. She may or not know she’s being glorified. It’s not for her; it’s for the readers cheering her on.
Candy wins against spinach when:
We find out Jane is one hot momma
It’s revealed Jane has some serious talent and skills
She succeeds at doing awesome things
Other people watch her succeed, clap and cheer, and/or make admiring comments
Some plot twist reveals Jane is crucial to saving the world, or heir to the throne
Spinach
Spinach is any story element that humiliates Jane. It doesn’t have to be embarrassing for her, although if she knows about it, it’s going to be a disappointment or a sore spot. Sometimes it’s just a reminder for the audience that she’s only human, or cyborg, or whatever she is.
Spinach wins against candy when:
It turns out the opposite sex (and/or the same sex) really isn’t that into Jane
She discovers she’s really bad at something no matter how much she practices
She tries to accomplish something important but falls short
She is embarrassed in front of her entire high school class and they ridicule her
It turns out Jane’s not the real princess/chosen one after all, she’s just a decoy for assassins
Spinach isn’t Hardship, Candy isn’t Happiness
Spinach and candy are indicators of Jane’s value as a person, as perceived by the audience cheering for her. If she has no faults but goes through pain and suffering, candy still wins because she isn’t any less perfect – just unhappy. On the reverse side, let’s say Jane thinks she’s a fabulous chef, but everyone in town only pretends to like her cooking because they feel sorry for her. She may be very happy and carefree because she doesn’t know, but the audience knows, and spinach has triumphed.
Storytellers often try to balance a candied character by throwing in hardship. It helps, but it will never quite do the job. Only spinach can defeat candy.
Balancing the Battle
Every time we turn a page or watch an episode we’re hoping candy will sneak past the spinach defenses and gain the upper hand, if only for a moment. We live vicariously through Jane, so that candy is just as sweet as if we ate it ourselves. But we need spinach to hold its own too. A strong showing from spinach makes Jane an underdog, which is one of the reasons we like her. Without spinach, she couldn’t aspire to be someone better than she is today.
Now I’m going to summarize some real warfare. Here’s the Battle for Harry Potter at the beginning of Sorcerer’s Stone:
Harry’s not even in the scene but the battle is already on: McGonagall mentions how he, just a baby, destroyed the evil villian! It’s an astounding early victory for candy, ladies and gentlemen. And candy’s not even done! He has a cool-looking scar and he’s famous. People everywhere are talking about how awesome he is! The battle could be over before it’s even begun.
But look — spinach is pulling out the big guns: an emotionally abusive family. Harry’s now surrounded 24/7 by people who will remind him of just how inferior he is. He has no friends to counteract them, and he’s pretty funny looking with his knobby knees and dorky clothes. What a recovery! Spinach hasn’t entirely taken over though, what we have now is the special underdog, an ideal starting place for a battle.
It’s a long hard slog after this, but candy slowly erodes spinach’s defenses. It starts with the announcement that he’s a wizard — a weak attack, the audience already knows. But then we hear more about his defeat of Voldemort, and he’s taken to the Leaky Cauldron, where everyone wants to shake his hand! Spinach tries to fight back by introducing Draco to make Harry feel out of place, but then candy retaliates by bringing in Ollivander to comment on how “great things” are expected of him.
Candy gets in a few good volleys at school too: Draco tries to befriend him, and the sorting hat is very impressed with his talent and mind. But wait – here’s spinach with an appearance by Snape, the biased teacher, and he makes sure Harry is ridiculed in front of his class. Candy is really pushing for flying lessons, what is it up to? Wow – Harry is a natural at the broom, and… I can’t be seeing this right… he’s the youngest Quidditch player in a century, in the position that always determines the outcome of the game!!! It’s an overdose, ladies and gentlemen, an overdose! What a victory for candy!
Rowling throws the battle back and forth a lot, which is effective in keeping readers on the edge of their seats. But overall, she has a sweet tooth. Though the ideal balance between candy and spinach is probably a matter of taste, its generally better to err on the side of spinach.
Too Much Candy Makes You Sick
Candy tastes great, so it’s easy to over-indulge. But the more you have, the less enjoyable it becomes. Eventually, you just feel sick and disgusted. Fanfic has gained a reputation for having way too much candy, and so many of our best examples of this are fanfic parodies.
In the Buffy episode Superstar, the minor character Jonathan has cast a spell to give himself all the candy:
Buffy: “Well, I was just kind of wondering if maybe anyone else thought that Jonathan was kind of too perfect?” Xander: “No, he’s not. He’s just perfect enough. He crushed the bones of the Master, he blew up a big snake made out of Mayor, and he coached the US Women’s soccer team to a stunning World Cup victory.” […] Buffy: “And how did he graduate from med school? He’s only 18 years old.” Xander: “Effective time management?”
In the Girl Genius short comic Fan Fiction, the Mary Sue character Maria Antonia Fantasia Philomel abruptly enters the story when the heroes are in need and saves the day:
Bill: You’re as bold and beautiful as you were the day we rescued you from the bandits who kidnapped you — after your mysterious yet famously powerful Spark tribe was completely wiped out, leaving you the only heir to its secrets!
Maria: Oh, enough about my tragic past! (I was also a princess!) All that matters now is that I rescue you — with this ice ray I happen to have just invented!
When candy is winning over the central character of the story, the audience is more likely to defect and get really attached to the side characters that are still underdogs. Buffy herself is short on spinach. She may go through trials and tribulations in the series, but as a character she is a greatly admired, has amazing skills, and rarely makes an important mistake. This is probably one of the reasons many fans prefer Spike, the lovelorn, downtrodden vampire.
Too Much Spinach Isn’t Any Fun
For obvious reasons, storytellers don’t overdose on spinach very often. But when they do, it saps the enjoyment out of a story, and becomes pretty depressing.
Since spinach increases the appetite for candy, the audience may stick around for a surprisingly long time hoping they’ll be thrown a chocolate bar or at least a jelly bean, but after they finally get fed up, they won’t come back.
In the End, Candy Should Triumph
Assuming you want a happy or at least satisfying ending for your tale, candy should make a knock-out blow to spinach during the climax — but never before. Many storytellers start with a healthy dose of spinach, but by halftime are serving exclusively candy. Spinach should hold its own up to the ending, so victory is that much sweeter.
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benmiff · 6 years
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The Fall Of The Ivory Mask
Focusing a bit on Mezzabareen this time, going back quite a way into the past (a good hundred years or so before The Ritual And The Apprentice for perspective.)
The Iron Mask
They run before me as I approach their ancestral home, screaming for their armies to save them. Their previous arrogance means nothing now, their certainty in their mastery of arms and battle proving worthless in the face of carefully engineering betrayal. It was barely three months ago that they broke the Mask’s Compact,; we each have our monopolies and to demand the relinquishment of various areas from each of us was never going to receive any response other than retribution. To claim that their dominion over weaponry gave them rights over the Jade Mask’s gladiators or the Coral Mask’s warships would have offended me on their behalf alone, but to demand my fortifications and metal hardening techniques? Well, such an insult could never go unanswered, even if it did mean that we had to accept their occupation of some of our more prized locations after the initial weeks of fighting were over and we had grown sufficiently certain we could not deal with the problem on our own and so were forced to meet to discuss amongst ourselves a proper response.
I must admit, I wanted to go in as hard as we could and as early as we could, mustering assassins to reach the Ivory Mask’s far flung retainers while hitting his holdings with as many ground forces as we could summon. The Jade Mask agreed with me, though such things are to be expected from her draconic temperament, but the rest of the Horned Masks had different ideas, demanding that we act in a more subtle or surgical manner. Eventually, the Obsidian Mask took the lead in our discussions despite both the Jade Mask’s bloodlust and my desire to respond to the offence quickly so that it remained standing for as little a time as possible; her monopoly on Mezzabareen’s punishment industries let her speak with the voice of experience in matters of breach of prior agreements and she parlayed this expertly into having the dominant right to determine the nature of our response. The Silver Mask had the practical experience of alchemy to ensure that the Ivory Masks’ strength of arms would be meaningless, supplying enough poison that their soldiers would soon be laid low, while the Bone Mask had managed to maintain an image of not being entirely opposed to the current course of events since the Ivory Mask was one of her best customers; there was a constant demand for her flesh-crafting and medical services to prevent the more valuable retainers from being lost to mishaps with the development of their weapons, and so her retainers still had some access to the mercenary camps and could introduce the poison to the water supply.
Of course, such an attack was expected; the first set of retainers sent in with the poison were purely expendable, and were watched and caught in no short order with no more than a few scant casualties to show for the attempt. Still, it allowed the Bone Mask to winnow her staff pool of a few of her more useless people, and softened up the Ivory Mask for the true attack. There are a remarkable range of diseases in this world, and many which are known to only a few specialists, of which the Bone Mask has several; while most can identify a common pox or the bloody tears of a Weeping Disease sufferer, not all diseases are quite as obvious or as easily contained. All she explained was that those who were being sent in would be infected with something she called the Skin Shedding Disease, and that it would be best if no-one we valued was nearby when they went in; she assured us that anyone who breathed the air near a sufferer would likely as not catch the disease with ever y single breath they took, and that within a few days they would soon die as great strips of skin would peel and slough away from the flesh underneath.
True to her word, any place that the retainers were sent to soon ended up resembling a charnel house rather than any place befitting their original purpose. No doubt a few of the afflicted might have fled, struggled into the streets, but such things have a way of resolving themselves; the lesser classes would eventually figure out the nature of the latest tragedy to hit them and isolate the causes along with anyone else foolish enough to get caught up in the hysteria. With that, the Jade Mask and I were granted our wish to go to war at long last. The Jade Mask took her gladiators to the streets, hitting those who operated freelance within Mezzabareen and the surrounding islands subjugated to our purpose; as much as this was about avenging ourselves upon the Ivory Mask, there was a need to ensure that the lesser classes remained appropriately fearful and subjugated and seeing those with any ties to our enemy hunted down by gladiators would certainly be spectacle and warning enough. Less expected was the Jade Mask taking to the streets themselves; clearly being denied immediate vengeance had raised her ire significantly, and anyone unfortunate enough to have her find them were soon demolished with claw and venomous breath as several tons of incredibly angry dragon bore down on them.
The main assault, however, fell to me, the price I demanded for going along with the Obsidian Mask’s plan. She did not seem too displeased to hand that responsibility off to another one of the Horned Masks, happy to stay back and organise the appropriate sentence and then let others carry out the execution. Assaulting their main mansion was going to be bloody work, and I did not have the benefit of most of the defences being dead before I arrived like many of the other battles that would be occurring this night. Still, I had my reasons for demanding such an expensive part of the job; a significant part of it was that I wanted to exact the price for besmirching me personally, but there were also appearances to consider and successfully delivering such a prestigious set of deaths would clearly deliver the message to anyone else considering an unwise move against me that they should strongly reconsider such idiocy. Those were the public reasons for taking the task; less obvious (though most already had substantial suspicions) was that a group steeped in so much death and injury would prove a valuable resource for my well cultivated side-line business in blood magic. As many as possible would be exsanguinated, their blood used to imbue trusted retainers with martial prowess and more with potent tattoos at a later date, and their blood would no doubt also lend itself to the creation of some particularly effective homunculi as well; while I had brought the usual mercenaries and cut-throats with me, much of my forces were of my own private stock, soldiers with blades of crystalline blood or hearts replaced with black enchantments so they would never feel fear or pain or mercy. Further back were the homunculi that crawled on spindly proboscises, each jointed to a leathery sac to contain all the blood they would extract as they leapt upon their enemies and drained them to withered husks, ready to harvest all they could.
In true Mezzabareenian fashion, the centre of the Ivory Masks’ various businesses looked from the outside like a perfectly ordinary noble mansion. The surrounds were practically under her control, and the fighting through those streets had been bloody and violent, numerous mercenaries foolish enough to think they could stand against us, cut down as we approached, but now we stood in front of the central estate. Needless to say, anyone who entered the grounds was soon disabused of the notion, with the spiked railings along the main path to the house flying into the air, dozens of spears enchanted to fight by themselves disguised as an ordinary garden decoration for times of peace. Such things were merely an opening move in the battle, and though we lost a few men left groaning and bleeding out on the gravel path from savage gut wounds the spears were soon snapped and shattered and no longer a threat. They had still served their intended purpose, delaying our approach long enough that anyone inside the mansion would have had enough time to retrieve their own weapons and summon any personal bodyguards to them, but they were going to be fighting a battle for survival rather than for time as they had initially planned for; there were going to be no reinforcements coming from other locations they controlled scattered across Mezzabareen as they were much too busy with my fellow Horned Mask’s actions, and we had established a cordon of guards around the grounds so that nobody would be able to flee the upcoming massacre.
I swept into the main entry hall flanked by two of my best retainers; I had bound them together in a particularly long and difficult blood rite, linking them as blood brothers so that they now fought together as one. The hallway was already in disarray, my forces having entered and spread out across the ground floor in search of their victims; the more disreputable amongst them were just as likely motivated by anything small and valuable they could steal as the pay I had promised, but so long as it did not distract them from the main task at hand and any important papers were left untouched they were welcome to strip the place of any wealth. A few had attempted to climb the massive stairs running up through the centre of the room to reach the floor above, but none had succeeded and their corpses had been hurled back down to the hall to dissuade anyone but the bravest from following them; standing on the top flight was a narrow man, gaunt and spindly with the black ivory pin showing his allegiance and trusted position on his white coat which was unstained by any blood despite the signs of violence around him. I had heard tale that the Ivory Mask had on her payroll a blade master that he had furnished with the best sword they had, and this dark elf certainly fit the bill for such descriptions; the sword he held by his side did not look like one which was for show, a simple steel blade with basket hilt that shimmered in the light.
Clearly, the Ivory Mask and anyone of importance had taken refuge upstairs, reliant on the skills of this dark elf to protect them. We could have attempted to reach the first floor another way, sent people up the side of the building to break through the windows, but no doubt there would be contingency plans for such a thing as well. Besides, we were going to kill everyone associated with the Ivory Mask; that included this blade master, and it had been a while since I had a truly satisfying fight. I waved off my paired bodyguards, certain that they would step in if they needed to and certain that they would not need to, and as I strode up the stairs I asked the dark elf his name.
“Ravaul,” was all the response I got. I had heard mutterings about a Ravaul, that he was the fastest swordsman in all of Mezzabareen, but I had advantages of my own that would prove more than sufficient to best him and such rumours always were a little hyperbolic. I approached with my weapon pointed direct at him, a great maul of crystalline blood around my right hand from which three feet of bloody blade jutted, and as soon as I was within three paces he moved, batting my blade away before running his sword straight through my midriff. I had no cause to worry as I had already linked myself to a good number of my workers back in one of my underperforming mines, and one of them would now be splitting in two, taking my death for me; a cheap way to judge my opponent, and now I had the measure of him and his speed. Ravaul moved back into stance quickly, readying for a further attack, but the unexpected nature of my survival had slowed his recovery a little, giving me enough time to assume a defensive posture and prepare to defend against the next strike. He came in fast again, and I barely warded him off, attack after attack at lightning speed; numerous times his blade sank into my flesh, no blow quite as lethal as the first, but none of them would affect me as long as I remained bound to my workers so that every single injury afflicted one of them at random instead. I could see in his eyes he had no real idea what was going on, facing an opponent seemingly immune to harm. Was I immortal, perhaps? Did my flesh heal unnaturally fast? Perhaps he wasn’t actually hitting me when he thought he was, or this was just some kind of demented illusion? I certainly had no intention of filling him in on the real nature of what was happening; if he really wanted to know, he should have been better read and better informed. As it was, he was beginning to tire, his swings and thrusts getting a little slower and easy to dodge each time; clearly he was used to cutting down opponents on his first strike so often that he had never really trained endurance like he should. We continued to duel, his sword clattering against the ruby red edge of my bloody sword, and then he made his mistake; a thrust that had too much force behind it and would overextend his arm. I could have parried and tried to disarm him as part of the same sweep of my blade, but that ran the risk of failure if he managed to keep a solid grip on the blade still; far better to not parry and let him sink the blade straight through and then twist the body, wrenching the handle free at best and snapping the blade off inside me at worst. He saw what I was doing and tried to withdraw his sword, but by then it was too late, and he had little more than a foot of broken blade left in his hand as the steel snapped from my wrenching turn; I continued the motion and swept my crystalline blade though his neck, the remnants of his blade too short to bring up to block me in time.
His head came off clean and bounced down the stairs to join the corpses he had created early. One of the blood collecting homunculi was nearby and so I commanded it to drain as much of Ravaul’s blood as it could get; hopefully his skill with the blade could be harnessed later. By then, my two twinned bodyguards had approached, and with care begun to pull the remains of the sword from me, letting it clatter to the ground once it was out. Once the blade was out, the wound immediately healed, transferring away to another worker and leaving me good as new. The worst of the battle was surely over now, and we swept the upper floor to find every last servant and retainer and put them to death. An old room near the back of the mansion that clearly saw little use held the Ivory Mask, kept safe or so he thought behind an inch of solid metal; while it took a little while to break the door off the hinges, we did not suffer from a shortage of time and the door was breached soon enough. Some small credit must be given to the Ivory Mask in that he did not beg, though how much of that was dignity and how much was that he knew that it would have no effect I do not know; still, he stood and fought (with a particularly devious blade that snaked around as he wielded it) but all to no avail, my blade cutting him down like all the rest I came across.
We had started the attack late in the evening, and it was early morning by the time we were done, having swept the mansion top to bottom three times to ensure there were no survivors hiding anywhere. A job well done, and my honour restored; not too bad for a single night’s work. As the mercenaries and cut-throats filed out of the grounds, collecting their pay as they left, I looked over the building. Traditionally one would burn the place, but for a Horned Mask such an act seemed particularly gauche; his death alone would result in their holdings unravelling and fragmenting as enemies moved in to take their revenge, no longer afraid of the Ivory Mask’s retributions. There was no need to destroy the mansion, and no-one would dare enter the grounds for fear of any remaining defences. Besides, I wanted to leave the place behind to moulder and decay, unloved and unmaintained, a monument to what I had done here; if any of the other Horned Masks complained all I needed do was point out they gave me full discretion to prosecute this part of the plan, and I had most assuredly delivered. No, this job was well done, and now it was complete.
- - -
The word spread around Mezzabareen like wildfire. It was hardly surprising, seeing how many other attempts to retaliate against a Horned Mask or otherwise embarrass us had ended in grievous failure, but even with the consideration that it was the rest of us prosecuting one of our own that resulted in their erasure the people of Mezzabareen could hardly believe it. The loss of one of the eight Horned Masks was a significant shift, sure, but word soon moved to which of us would seize the now unclaimed monopoly on weapons and defences. We had already agreed it would no longer be a monopoly, and each of us would therefore have our own weapons and defences from then on, but even with leaking this information there were still those who insisted this was a move by one of us to seize another monopoly. No matter – fools will be fools, no matter how careful you are to try and convince them otherwise. More worrying for me was the rumour that sprung up and would not be squashed no matter who I had punished for expressing it; while most believed that the Ivory Mask and anyone close enough to him to have a claim on his mask were now dead, some insisted that his youngest daughter managed to escape. The details varied between every telling, with some saying there was a secret tunnel, others teleportation across impossible distances through the wards that specifically counteracted such attempts, and so on and so forth with varying levels of plausibility between improbably and downright impossible. It seemed Mezzabareen’s rumour mill couldn’t just give me a complete victory, even with the newfound respect I was being afforded by those afraid they might otherwise be next. The Mask would go unclaimed, of course – no-one could actually get to it past the defences in the grounds (not to mention the large volume of what were likely very angry ghosts). Still, the rumour demanded an answer to be given by public announcement, and after discussions it was felt I should give it seeing as I was so instrumental to the punishment.
I am not accustomed to public speaking in more rarefied crowds, something many of the Horned Masks knew and were no doubt counting on to diminish my star after the recent victory. A good number of citizens had turned up at news that we would be explaining what had happened to the Ivory Mask, but most had lives and other things to be getting on with, and so it was only a straggly crowd amassed there.
“Mezzabareenians. We have killed the Ivory Mask and his retainers for transgressions against the Mask’s Compact. The Horned Mask itself remains in the grounds which will remain as a memorial of what it means to cross us. As to recent rumours – should there be a legitimate bearer of the Ivory Mask, all they need to do is spend a night in the mansion itself; if they are truly of the Ivory Mask, the defences will not harm them. That is all,” I said, standing on the raised stone in front of the square as was customary despite the thin crowd making the height to see over them unnecessary. Speech done and the seeds planted to quash the tiresome belief in a successor, I returned to my work, this little saga wrapped up.
It took less than a week for the first false claimant to come forward and die by our hands. By the end of the month, there were seven dead false claimants; following that, maybe one or two, sometimes none, month on month on month.
Of course, they never succeeded. Of course, they never could.
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amillionsmiles · 6 years
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like we’re made of starlight (Peter/Lara Jean)
Summary: “Lara Jean, you’re a person before anything else.  I stopped having a perfect image of you in my head a long time ago.” / Peter and Lara Jean go camping in December to catch the Geminids.  Oneshot. A/N: squeaking by and getting this in before the new year, whoo!  belated bday fic for @adribug .  I’m a little rusty writing for these two but I hope you enjoy some couple fluff >.<
[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.
I have this theory about love.
It involves layers—so that a relationship might have its gooey childhood phase, and then its teenage years, and if you're lucky you eventually get to the sweet, solid outer coating of an adult kind of love.
"Like an onion," Peter says, the first time I bring this up.
I frown. "I was thinking more like… candy. Like a tootsie pop. Or…" I look out the window, to where the dense green forest blurs by, a solid backdrop behind the other cars whizzing down the highway. "Or tree rings. So if you sliced a relationship, you'd be able to see its stages of growth. And the deeper the feelings, the wider the ring. Or maybe width should be determined by the length of time…" I'm puzzling through the specifics of my metaphor now, wondering what my relationship with Peter would look like, if it were documented in tree rings.
"Like that lab we did in environmental science," Peter says, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
I feel a bit bad that he's driving, especially since he already drove four hours to pick me up from school. "Y'all are gross," my friend Marcie said when we found him waiting at the Old Well. Marcie's like that. I introduced her to Peter the first time he came to visit, back in early October; she gave him a hard time then, but I could tell it was because she was testing him. By the end of the day, he'd definitely passed.
Today, we spent some time walking around so Peter could stretch his legs and eat a late lunch, and then it was back in the car. There's supposed to be a big meteor shower tonight—the Geminids—and Peter and I thought it'd be fun to actually camp out to see them, in the woods with a tent and everything. We made reservations at Jones Lake State Park, which is about two hours away. I couldn't have planned it more perfectly; our schedules are both wide open because of Reading Day, though I still have two finals coming up later this week, and Peter has one.
I offered to drive, but Peter had to take the van in order to fit our camping gear, and I'm not as good at handling bigger cars. I make up for it by feeding Peter bites of the special sandwiches I prepared: muffaleta with an olive-oregano-onion mix, pepperoni, prosciutto, and provolone. As Peter pulls away, chewing, several crumbs stick to the corner of his mouth.
"So where are we in all of this?" he asks.
"What?"
"You said there was teenage love and then there was 'adult love.' Which one are we?"
I consider. We're both technically adults, in the barest sense of the word, and I can see how a semester at college has already changed us. College Peter has gotten more muscular from all his lacrosse practice. He moves with less swagger—not in a bad way, but as if he doesn't have as much to compensate for. It's a quieter kind of confidence, which I like.
But then, of course, there are all the ways that College Peter is exactly the same. He still calls me at night, right before either of us falls asleep. He still smells like Dove soap, the soft, clean boy-scent I've come to associate with comfort, and he still makes my heart beat fast when he looks over with that crooked smile of his, the light from the dying sun catching in his eyes.
I tap a finger against my lips and smile back, considering.
"I'm still figuring out," I say.
*.*.*.*
We get to the park an hour before closing.
Loose sticks and gravel crunch under our tires as we pull into our campsite. I'm out of the car as soon as Peter parks, marveling at our view.
"Peter, look, isn't it gorgeous?" We're right by the shore of the lake; in front of me stretch the placid waters, like a mirror of the sky. The surface is so still it looks like glass—I feel like if I throw a pebble at it, I'll shatter something.
Peter grunts as he starts to unload our equipment. I hurry to help him. The food takes some time to get organized. Even though it's just the two of us, I wanted the full experience, so I bought all the ingredients for s'mores. Then there are the sandwiches I made for us to eat for dinner, with plenty of extras because I know Peter will get hungry. Finally, the burritos I prepared for breakfast tomorrow, wrapped neatly in foil so that we can just heat them over the fire.
The tent takes a little more work, but we get it finished in time to watch the sunset. The meteors aren't expected to become visible until 7:30 PM, and they probably won't be at their peak until well past that, so Peter and I entertain ourselves with a puzzle and a deck of cards. I've recently started watching magic tricks on YouTube and figure that Peter's a good a person to try them out on, mostly because I know how to distract him.
All in all, things are going well, up until I need to use the restroom and remember that we're in the middle of nowhere.
When I bring this up, Peter looks unconcerned. "Just go in the woods, Lara Jean, haven't you ever been camping before?"
"Of course I have!" Twice. "But it's all dark and cold outside, and the trees are too far apart. I'll feel exposed."
"There's nobody around. And you'll be out in the open for five minutes, tops."
"Easy for you to say, you're a boy. You can just—" I pantomime the motion with my hands, which makes Peter redden slightly. His eyes dart around the tent, looking anywhere but at my face. After a beat, he heaves a sigh and gets to his feet, grabbing his fleecy orange and blue Cavaliers blanket.
"What are you doing?" I stare at him blankly.
Peter stares right back. "Coming with you. I'll hold up the blanket as a screen so you can do your…" he gestures aimlessly, "…business."
"Oh." My voice goes small. "Well, that's okay—"
Too late. Peter has a hand on the small of my back now and uses it to usher me out of the tent. I barely manage to grab the bag of wet wipes before we're both out in the cold, tucking our chins against our necks and hunching over to keep warm. Peter sets the pace; meanwhile, I stumble after him with the flashlight, casting a wobbly yellow beam on the ground in front of us.
Camping out in a cozy tent under the stars in order to catch a meteor shower? Romantic. Having your boyfriend accompany you into the woods so that you don't have to pee alone in the dark? Admittedly less so.
"Is this good?" Peter stops and looks back at me, gesturing toward a copse of trees. If I squint, I can make out the light of our campfire in the distance, but we're far enough away that if I shut off the flashlight we'll be plunged into relative darkness. I do that now, handing over the flashlight to Peter and fumbling blindly with all my layers. Margot taught me that it helps to find a thin tree trunk to hold onto for balance—then you can sit back just like you'd do at home.
Behind me, there's a rustle: Peter holding up his makeshift blanket-screen.
"Don't look!" I hiss.
"I can't see anything to begin with," Peter argues, but I know he probably has his eyes squeezed shut anyways. The air is biting cold against my skin, the woods eerily quiet, and I'm suddenly self-conscious. It's a weird feeling, to be made vulnerable by something so—mundane, as Margot would call it.
"Can you also, like—cover your ears?"
"Lara Jean," Peter says, and it's in his I'm trying very hard to be patient voice. "Look, you're a person before anything else. I stopped having a perfect image of you in my head a long time ago. Just pee."
I pause. "That's… actually really sweet, Peter."
"Always the tone of surprise," Peter grumbles, but I can tell he's pleased.
We know each other well, that way.
*.*.*.*
"Remember the poem you gave me junior year, for Valentine's Day?"
I say this with my ear pressed against Peter's chest, trying to hear his heartbeat through the puffy jacket he's wearing. From this angle, it's easy to pretend we're in a snowglobe—the sky seems to curve over us like a dome, the stars suspended like tiny flakes of glitter. Peter shifts to put his hand behind his head.
"The moon never beams without bringing me dreams / Of beautiful Lara Jean. / And stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes / of beautiful Lara Jean," he recites. "I'm still flattered that you thought I could come up with that, even for a second."
"It's not too late to start trying now," I say, batting my eyelashes at him.
Peter laughs. I like that I can feel the rumble of it right against my cheek, all warm and chocolatey. He's been fiddling with my hair—one of his fingers gets caught in a snag and he untangles it gently, the way Kitty taught him how. I file that gesture away. When I have a daughter, I'll tell her: it's important to be with someone who has careful hands.
"Maybe I'll take a creative writing class next semester," muses Peter. "And then I really will write you an actual poem."
"I'll keep it framed in my room if you do," I tell him seriously.
"Speaking of rooms, you never ended up helping me decorate mine, by the way. It needs some of your…" His hand flails. "Pizzazz."
I giggle. "Say that again."
"Pizzazz?"
"Cute." I pinch his cheek, which makes Peter roll his eyes. "What kind of vibe were you thinking?"
"I don't know." Peter's brow furrows. "Some string lights might be cool, for starters. I like the ones you have. Maybe not in pink, though."
"We can look through Pinterest together," I promise. "And then we'll go—oh, Peter, did you see that?"
"Yeah," Peter says, and then we're both pushing ourselves up on our elbows, craning our necks. More silver flashes streak across the sky, like the briefest glimpse of fish scales. A parade of meteors, of falling stars.
On the blanket, Peter's hand covers mine. He squeezes.
"Make a wish."
*.*.*.*
We go back inside the tent at around 2 AM. Cheeks numb from the cold, I immediately kick off my shoes and pull on an extra pair of socks before wriggling into my sleeping bag. Peter is close behind, already yawning, and as I turn to watch him, I realize that this is the first full night we're spending together, all by ourselves. No curfews, no one waiting for us to come home. I don't even know if Peter snores, which is a strange thing to think about, a piece of information you wouldn't expect to be missing after dating someone for almost three years—after knowing them for even longer.
And what if he does snore? What if it's so loud it keeps me awake all night so that I'm cranky and can't stand to look at his pretty-boy face in the morning? And what might he learn about me, up close?
"Go to sleep, Lara Jean." Peter grumbles, his eyes shut. "I can feel you looking at me."
Scoffing, I retort, "You like being looked at." And then I roll closer, so that we're almost nose to nose, our knees bumping gently against each other, swaddled in our sleeping bags.
Maybe this is the difference between teenage love and adult love. Shedding the mystery and the allure of nighttime for the promise of morning, when we'll be at our barest. The bad breath and the messy hair and the little annoyances; the wanting to be close in spite of it all. Or maybe it's all the same in the end, night bleeding into day, and I don't need any more theories when I have the real deal right here, sleeping soft and slow. Waiting for me when I wake up.
I close my eyes.
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Remember The Titans and Black Lives Matter
I learned American History from Hollywood films and pop culture during the Bush Administration. 
My 6th grade teacher was horrified to see my potential wasting away on the frivolity of Based on True Event sport blockbusters and Remakes of Dystopian Nightmares, Sarcastic Teeny Bop Melodramas. 
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Or, worse, the Hippy Dippy Nonsense genres that encouraged the youth to remain ignorant Sheeple With A Death Wish like Jackass or Gossip Girl
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Despite how that sounds, he wasn’t a condescending prick. He was a good man with very high standards for media that he came off as a snob. Because he was. A snob. With so much nerd rage. That’s what made us bond.
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You see, I’m a snob too. I had to be. I am the daughter of immigrants. And I grew up during the Bush Administration. 
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I grew up during a time of Prop 187, El Nino, El Morro, Thalia Y Tomy Motola y el secuestro, Pasale Paisano, anti-Cuba sentiment, Fake News, Columbine, Hanging Chads, 9/11/01, Pseudo-Fascism, WMDs, Jingoism, Patriot Acts, They’re Gonna Follow Us Home, Shakira, Katrina, George W Bush Hates White People Kanye Scandal, Militia, NRA Guantanamo, Dixie Chicks, A Day Without A Mexican, Selena the Movie, El CHupacabra, End of the American Dream, Once In A Lifetime Breaking News TRL Britney Once In A Lifetime Civil Unrest Breaking News Breaking News Narco Corridos Breaking News Miramax Breaking News Anthrax Breaking News Marylin Manson, Las Hijas De Juarez, Eugenio Derbez, La Escuelita,  Los Tigeres Del Norte, Los Tucanes De Tijuana, Napster, Metallica Some Kind of Monster, Bono, Apple, Pixar, MySpace, AIM, new tech every 6 months, cell phones, Reggeaton, Walter Mercado Primer Impacto, American Idol,
To boot, I am the daughter of immigrants. Who were hyper-Catholic. And narcissists. And abusive. And alcoholics. Who were allergic to stability, progress, open-mindedness, or anything conducive to raising children in a global crisis. 
So I had to be selective about the media that I consumed. Because my mother was a Batman Villain, my paternal-figure was a reluctant father unwilling to abandon his fuckboi ways for his family, and my brother and I were left to our own devices to figure out how to raise ourselves and our parents. We sucked at it. And years later we are paying for trying.
So, while navigating the highs and lows of our own puberty-induced hormonal roller coaster, we had to think quick and raise our 2nd-adolescence shit show of a parental unit.
We were parentalized. I didn’t know it at the time, but that is what happened to us.
What I did know at the time is that I needed to figure out how to live. Come up with a division of labor within the family unit and ensure that everyone played their role. You know, like the mother typically does.
And in order to play my role, I had to be studious of this different culture. Not just American culture. Not just teen culture. Not just Mexican culture. But all of them. Somehow, I had to find a way to navigate life. Since the age of 9 years old.
It’s exhausting having to be the adult of the house. I did not have a chance to be a child. Or matter to anyone. So I learned to matter to myself.
I learned not to trust anyone to be part of my support system because the people who were supposed to show me what that looked like were emotionally unavailable. And they stubbornly refused to divorce because that would mean they had failed their culture and religion and would be ostracized from the communities made of individuals they hated but stubbornly worked to impress and fit into.
And that meant that I befriended a strange array of really awesome people who made me feel seen and heard and understood. Like this Santa Clause-looking white dude with a motorcycle fetish and a kind touch with prepubescent girls with culture shock and daddy issues. Best of all, he was genuine. And sweet. And not at all inappropriate with children. That’s not sarcasm. He was not inappropriate with me or anyone else that I knew of. He truly was a great teacher.
Which is why I tried to keep in touch with him long after 6th grade. He was a computer nerd and introduced me to the wonder of the internet. And internet humor. And being opinionated. He was my Big Guy Bow Tie.
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His opinion meant so much to me and I wanted to please him so badly.
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And not once did he cross a line that would make it harder for me to thrive and move past the other trauma I was being exposed to. 
How sad that I feel compelled to reiterated that he never diddled me. Sad for his reputation and sad that I have come to terms with how vulnerable I was to predators. 
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He was a real one.
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I knew that my feelings were not normal in the broader sense of the word. But I understood that it was all I had to work with  and make magic with it. So I figured out that I would have to be very guarded and selective with my time, effort, and social circle. Which often meant I was the smart young adult in a group of what I thought were sophisticated adults but were really ghost of my future if I did not get past my daddy issues in a healthy way.
By the time I got to high school, I was the weird kid
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I had no idea how I got there. But I had to figure out how to follow my passion without wasting my potential.
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My passion is art. Specifically, music. But in general? Art. Books, Poetry. Knowledge.
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And because that wasn’t complicated enough: I was discovering my own sexuality. 
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And the first born first generation Mexican American with hyper Catholic parents.
I may as well have come out as a supporter of the Axis of Evil
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They would never understand that I was ACTUALLY part of the Axis of Awesome
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They would not understand. It would be lost in translation
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So I had to learn to be silent with my truth. Forever hiding in the shadows and wondering when my life might begin
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It began when I learned that the library was my escape. That I could learn about anything I wanted with very basic tools and that my ingenuity would get me far
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But what does any of this have to do with Remember The Titans? Or Black Lives Matter?
Well... everything.
Because in addition to my parents being old fashioned and abusive, they were also closet racists. I had to teach myself not to ingrain their prejudices as I trusted them to keep me alive. I had to walk a very fine line between Daddy’s Girl and Daddy Issues. A fine line between Mommy’s Little Princess and Mother Knows Best and No The Fuck You Don’t.
And I managed to do that with the renaissance of black content creators in the early 2000s. Remember the Titans was a favorite of mine. 
Little did I know
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I was teaching myself to experience different cultures without appropriating them. I found what I was into and I immersed myself in it.
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But I hid it. I silenced my opinions and tried to keep the peace. For the sake of my family.
That did not work. Shocking.
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But I was left with the realization that even though my effort was wasted with my nuclear war of a family, I learned valuable lessons that I taught myself. Including that Black Lives Matter, anyone who has trouble acknowledging that needs to grow the fuck up and learn something cause we’re running out of time and ain’t nobody got time for ignorance an fear with a mad man in the white house.
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And I don’t want to miss out on my life simply because I come from dysfunction and am constantly playing catch-up to understand what normal is and how to achieve it
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I am not alone in this. I come from a generation of American children who learned to cope with complex issues of race, politics, satire, drugs, over-medication. self-medication, financial irresponsibility, weaponized faith and ignorance. It was the dawn of the age of the Basket of Deplorables. And Millenials were caught in the crossfire. I was caught. And I learned. Black. Lives. Matter. Women have voices and opinions that matter and a feminine point of view is crucial to the success of any business endeavor. I taught myself feminism and  committed to its intersectionality before I knew it may be a word the dictionary I owned was missing. I learned that words matter because language has power. I tasted the crispness of that juicy apple from the tree of knowledge. And I wanted to marinate in its juices until i was good and goddamn ready to be tasted and known myself.
Oh yeah, I learned my Daddy Issues manifest themselves in a need to sexually please emotionally unavailable men.
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So I chose as wisely as I could. You know, what with the inmates running the asylum 
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But my god am I into drummers! And linebackers! And Cheating Ass Marine  Motherfuckers With Secret Families in Portland who Ghost a Bitch Just When She’s About to Fall!!!
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My picker is off. I learned that phrase from Loveline. Another resource in my quest to exist in my natural state
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Having to twist myself into a pretzel to please the un-pleasable was unsuccessful. 
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So I stopped and focused on my real family. My chosen family. Those who care if I live, die, have food and rent money, and ask me to text them when I get home so they know I am safe. Those people. My people. I go hard for them. And they are various heights, weight-classes, political affiliations, complexions. because I learned that black lives matter. As well as Asian American Lives. And Migrant Lives. And Femme Lives. And LGBTQIA+ Lives. In essence, ALL LIVES MATTER INCLUDING BLACK LIVES. Because life is too hard in it’s natural state to be excluding people from We The People. Because the America I Still Believe in does not allow for any of this maga shit to stand
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Because we need to be allies for each other against the real danger to this country. 
Internalized Systemic Racism and how it has been exploited to separate the working classes in a strict divide down socio-economic boundaries that are not easily crossable. This phenomenon is often called a glass ceiling. Minorities are particularly affected. But that doesn’t mean that all white people are to blame or responsible or immune. You see, I’ve read the Handmaid’s Tale. 
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And while everyone is looking at the Scarlet Robe of the Handmaids and the Serene Teal of the Wives, no one looks at the EconoWives. Wife Trash, I suppose.
Much like the Titans’ football season. High school seniors in a recently-desegregated town. Sounds like the plot of a Disney movie or a Based On True Events TV movie
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Gee... I can’t imagine why I related to this...
But I did and I learned from it. I learned that it takes effort to make a champion. And it is not accomplished alone. And while the odds may be ever against you
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You have to decide what matters to you. And if that is football, you listen to your brothers on the team and keep your circle small.
And if that is closet-cases that fear for their safety when outed
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And if that is a mother at 9 years old because that is how old you were when you realized you were more emotionally intelligent than your own pathetic excuse for a mother who is really a batman villain who you will later turn into if you don’t watch out for the stalker tendencies now and your fuckboi father who still cheats on your mother because this is a pity marriage that neither of them are ready to end even though everyone would be better off, especially your brother who is a precious little squish but being psychologically handicapped by the Stephen King Novel raising him and who is so much like you but you won’t know that for several years because you’re just a child and what do you know what normal is or is not supposed to feel like...
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Then that’s just what the fuck it means.
My therapist asked me how I’m doing in 2020 with my depression and the isolation and what I think about the protests.
Like if the logic behind the protests was up for debate. Or if it was a political statement rather than a statement of human compassion and empathy to say that 
Black
Lives
Matter.
I guess she hasn’t seen Remember the Titans
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