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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years

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Desperate Affairs, Part 17

Summary: Moving in to Jake’s…what does Bucky, Sam, and co. think about that?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of divorce, 18+ONLY

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

Living with Jake is going to be different. You had only interacted with the man a few times, but he seems nice enough. The more you think about it, the more you realize you jumped into another situation where you know nothing about the person. You make a mental note to just randomly ask him questions. No, not a mental note. Picking up your phone off the coffee table you open up the notes app and start jotting down questions to ask him.

Leaning over from the couch you look into the dark hallway. It’s almost too quiet, the quietness nearly stifles you. The hundreds of messages, calls, and voicemails from Andy still left untouched, but then shortly after everyone was bringing things into the apartment they all abruptly stopped.

You sit and think about everything that had transpired today. Too much happened in a short span of time. Yesterday was exhausting and humiliating. Today you felt the tiniest bit of reprieve, but now that you’re alone. Your mind races. Almost feeling like your drowning with your thoughts.

Once all the boxes were brought in Ransom had left to go get cribs for the girls, and surprise, a bed for you, Bucky and Sam going with him. Jake’s friends Clay and Pooch left early, saying there wasn’t much room in the apartment for all these people. Sarah, Becca, and Nat help you put away clothes, trying to organize as much as possible, considering at the time there wasn’t any beds. Steve hung back mostly, busied himself by putting the toys in the living room. Going back to check on you guys, almost scared to help put away clothes, the minute he saw Nat put your panties in a drawer. Mumbling he should have gone with the men.

Jake awkwardly would walk in the room, not fully knowing exactly what he needed to do. Excusing himself to go into the living room with Steve.

And once the trio returned all the men helped build the beds, cursing at how ridiculous cribs were to put together. Yes, it took too many men to put them together. A team in the bedroom and a team in the living room. It didn’t take long until it became a competition.

Nat would egg them on, and Sarah would roll her eyes, until she saw you giggling at the race between Jake and Bucky verses Ransom and Sam. The most painfully opposite of pairings. Laughing every time Bucky would actually growl at the stupid things coming out of Jake’s mouth. Steve moving between the two as a buffer. Trying to read the directions for them, but they just wanted to figure it out. “Steve’s going to take me home, so I can get the kids. We ordered pizza, and he’ll pick it up on the way back. I’ll get AJ and Cass too,” she tells Sarah, turning to look straight at you, “I left my number on your dresser. Join us for girls’ night. I heard that a certain pretty boy has visitations on Thursdays. Bucky, Sam, and Steve usually watch the kids for us. They could help with Iris.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’ll take time. I get it, first step is just to get out,” you know she’s not just referring to girls’ night. “And you’re doing a good job.”

Team Bucky and Jake finished nearly fifteen minutes before Ransom and Sam. Jake walks around gloating about the fact that he beat them, looking particularly hard at Ransom who only glares at him. They finally finish when Steve arrives with the pizza. Everyone loudly eats slices, talking and laughing. You try to laugh, try to join in on the conversation, but you feel yourself getting in your head. Wondering if Andy’s halted contact to you because there’s another woman with him, or possibly something happened to him. Your mind racing at the possibilities on what they stopped.

“Hey, it’s getting late. Want to go with me to get the girls?” Ransom asks, coming to stand beside you.

The room hushes, only coughing, or random sniffling can be heard while everyone stares between the two of you. “Both our cars are here. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to go on home, and I can pick up the girls?”

Ransom shrugs, “Don’t want you to be alone.”

“I can take her,” Jake adds in.

Sarah’s eyebrow cocks up and she looks between the two boys. “No, uh-uh. I can go with her.”

“You don’t have to,” you respond.

“I know I don’t. But I’m going to.”

“I’ll go, too. Don’t mind sitting in between kids,” Nat perks up.

The three of you depart, leaving all the men in the apartment staring amongst themselves. “Just so we’re clear,” Bucky begins, “I don’t know what you two dummies are doing, but stop.”

“What did I do?” Jake asks, his voice raising in pitch.

“I mean, she’s going to get my kid. I thought it would be nice for her not to deal with my family.”

“What Bucky is meaning to say, but being nice is she didn’t just break up with Andy. She’s separated. Acting like she’s willing to make it work, but I think she’s actually done. With those women she will be. But you two and your constant need to impress her and trying to up the other just needs to fucking stop. She is still holding on to the love she felt for Andy. And if you continue to overwhelm her, she may go running back,” Sam adds.

“Wait…did you just he say you were the father of one of the girls?” Bucky groans when he looks at Steve.

“Did you miss the entire conversation? We’re talking about these two boneheads who are trying to make moves on her,” Sam looks at his friend with wide eyes. Trying to figure out how that was what he took out of that.

“Yes, Aster is my daughter. Iris is Andy’s.”

“I was right,” everyone looks at Steve. “She came in my office with a paternity test, wanting me to explain the markers. Huh, well congratulations, I guess. So, listen instead of us just standing here, why don’t we put the beds in her room?”

“You’re the doctor that told her the test was impossible if the girls weren’t identical?” Ransom asks, he wonders if he would be willing to testify against Andy. Time to start playing nice with the doctor.

“I just said that, yeah.”

Thankfully, this group of beefy men can carry furniture around. Unthankfully they struggled with how to place it to ensure the most space. “Is this the biggest fucking bedroom?” Ransom groans, moving your bed for the fifth time.

“Yes. Go look in my room. This one is much bigger. And I don’t like what you’re insinuating. Why would I take the bigger one, when there’s three people in this room.”

“Oh my God! Would you two shut up. I’m getting sick of hearing the two of you bickering about who’s penis is bigger,” Bucky has had it. His metal hand rubs his temple hoping that the oncoming headache from these two will go away.

“We…we weren’t comparing penis,” Jake starts. Mumbling to add, “I bet mine’s bigger anyways.”

“Why don’t you ask her how big my cock is,” Ransom stands, walking closer to Jake, but Bucky stops him before he makes it there.

“Aw, you just had to rub that in, didn’t you?”

Steve and Sam stand arms crossed, eyes ping ponging of the man children. “Yep, she even chose me over her husband.”

“You could treat her with a bit more respect since she’s the mother of your daughter.”

“And you should back off.”

“WOULD YOU BOTH BACK OFF!” Bucky shouts. “I thought I made myself clear. She doesn’t need either of your dicks. She needs you to be supportive. Do you want her going back to Andy?” looking down they both shake their heads no. “Good. Now they’ll be back shortly. Focus. I’ve got a headache from listening to you two, and for trying to figure out how to put this fucking room in fucking order. So please for the love of my sanity, shut up,” Jake raises his hand like you would in school to ask a question. “Whatever it is, no.”

“How about we put the cribs this way on that wall, and her bed on this wall. That should open the room up and the girls could play in the floor.”

“Good ole Dr. Rogers. I knew if you put your head into you could figure it out,” Sam slaps him on the back, already beginning to lift up the crib.

You had been surprised when you came back to see everything set up. Proud that they used their heads and teamwork to get it done. But now you sit here, alone, and unable to sleep. Leaning your head down to your knees, you breathe deeply. Hoping that tears down travel down your face.

“Everything okay?” lifting up your head you meet Jake’s eyes, squinting with the loss of his glasses. “It’s one in the morning. Can’t sleep?”

“No, feels weird.”

“Why?” his eyes cast down to the floor as he scratches the back of his neck.

“The bed feels too big.”

“It’s a small bed.”

You sigh looking up at him. He’s clueless as to what you mean. “I’m used to sharing a bed with Andy.”

“Oh…uh, um…” his eyes look up at the ceiling and then back to you. “I could sleep with yo…no, you can sleep in the bed with me.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Sleep is always a good idea. I can sleep over the covers,” putting up his fingers to pretend to be a boy scout. “Honestly. You’ve got to take care of the girls, gotta find a job, you need sleep. Come on.”

“Will you respect my boundaries?”

“Top of the covers. Promise.”

This of course is a terrible idea, but comforting at the same time. Even him on top of the covers, not even touching you, but just feeling his body heat, hearing his breathing, it becomes your lullaby for the night, and you find yourself drift quickly.

Jake only watches you. Bucky’s words and your own screaming in his mind. And then that rich prick, always there, always throwing up in his face that he’s been with you. Even insinuating you preferred him over Andy. He knows that Ransom is in a battle to win your heart. But Bucky is right, both of them need to heavily step back, and remember what you need, instead of what each of them want.

His eyes slowly start to close, readjusting himself, he moves further away from your sleeping body. Not wanting to give him any more temptations. Fully allowing himself to fall asleep, convincing himself he won’t push you.

He wakes hearing something fall in the kitchen, figuring it’s nothing he closes his eyes back, but when the door to the twins’ room opens, he jumps out of bed, running out to see what’s going on. “What the fuck?” someone shouts, turning on the lights to their, well your room. Cougar turns to look at Jake, and Jake flips the lights back off, briefly checking to make sure both girls remain asleep. “Why are there babies in this room?”

“Shh, don’t wake them. Living room,” he whispers, pushing Cougar out, when he sees your sleeping form on the bed.

“Why the is there a woman in your bed? I’ve been gone for a few days, and you have a woman in your bed and two babies in my room.”

“First off, you don’t live here. Secondly, why are you here?”

“Got drunk, needed a place to crash, this was closest. What is going on?”

“If you would have answered my call you would know.”

“Wait, is that…are they…you have secret kids?” normally Cougar isn’t too talkative. Right now, he’s been drinking and is confused.

“No. She’s a friend…”

“In your bed.”

“She’s leaving her abusive husband. Her and the kids needed some place to temporarily stay. Clay is hopefully going to line up a job for her, but that’s why they’re here.”

“Two babies…”

“Two baby daddies, too.”

This bit of information is about too much for a slowly sobering up Cougar with the rapid information. “They look like they’re the same age.”

“Complicated. If you’re staying, you’re on the couch. Now can I go back to bed.”

“Yeah, with her.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure, it’s not. Go on, go cuddle with your friend,” plopping down on the couch, Cougar closes his eyes. Jake walks back into the bedroom; you still sound asleep this time he allows himself to lay down just the tiniest bit closer. He can do this.

Masterlist

#desperate affairs #jake jensen #ransom drysdale #andy barber #dark!andy barber #dark!andy barber x reader #jake jensen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #crossover fanfic #crossover fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans character x reader

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immaculatetfs · 3 years

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Hey! I have a story idea. What if a group of bros decide to go cow tipping on a farm and the farmer is a wizard. He stops them and attaches cow bells to their necks slowly transforming them into cows. Their utters produce muscle milk which he sells in stores.

Can do (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

Muscle milk

*Animal TF*

Jaques Caleb and Chad had been best friends since starting school together. All three had been quick to meet on the football field, their loud, immature humour making the trio thick as thieves, all the while making the rest of their classmates dismiss them as egg-headed and obnoxious, stereotypical jocks. This bond between these three only strengthened as they grew into their late teens.They spent most of their time together either working out, playing football or partying. There was a rumour that back in the 50’s there had been a tradition for highschool leavers to go cow tipping on their last day, a practice that had been outlawed after perpetrators had mysteriously disappeared. Perhaps it was this that gave Caleb the notion at the school ball afterparty.

“YOOOOO BROOOO We should go cow tipping Broo” he slured

“What? Nah bro well miss the party” replied Chad as he made out with his girlfriend

“WeRe gOnnA MIss ThE pArTY, nah man. It's gonna be a RIOT. Don't you wanna uphold the Greenfield tradition?” Mocked Caleb

“Nah man, come with us , it's gonna be HILARIOUS” Jaques chimed in

“Ugh you guys are such idiots. Seeya babe” Chad gave his girlfriend one last long kiss and the trio left the party’s smell of deodorant and booming music, their heads swimming with fireball and beer and mouths chuckling as Caleb made ribald remarks of what they would do to the unsuspecting cows.

They chose a field that was about 20 minutes away from their school that just scraped the outskirts of town. They believed that nobody would be looking out as the last caught tipping was ages ago, but still wanted a quick escape.

After climbing over the wire fence, the three made their way up a hill to the nearest heftier, a large cow with swollen udders and belly, likely late in the stages of pregnancy.

“Nah guys we shouldn't do this, it's wrong” said Chad, having sobered up on his walk there, but both of his mates ignored him entirely as they usually did. The two snuck up to the side of the slumbering animal, creeping up until they had hands right against her hide.

Caleb looked left to Jaques, who gave him a stupid grin.

“One……..”

Twooooooooooo”

“STOP” a deep, mature voice commanded. They froze. Behind them a man had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere

“What are y’all doing on my property this time’a night” he said in a thick southern drawl

“You kids doin’ some cow tipping?”

They were unable to move, each standing like statues in the cold, night air.

“My bad, y'all can move now” he waved his hand

Suddenly they could breathe again

“Sir, We didn't do anything!” pleaded Jaques

“Yeah sir! Nothing!” Caleb paroted

The stranger sighed. Well I ca……..

“Well do anything, just don't call the cops on us! I have a scholarship and iy that happens...!” Caleb cried out, interupting

For a moment there Caleb thought he saw a sinister sparkle in the strangers eye, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared, if it was ever there at all

“Well i've been needing work done round here recently, how's that sound?”

The sobered younger men agreed, reasoning it was better shovel some hay than get caught breaking the law.

“Great, Follow me”

He led the group to a large shed, heavy with the pungent smell of animals. They could hear cows mooing

I’ll need y’all to stick these round yer necks” the farmer pointed to three huge, steel cowbells, attached to leather harnesses that laying together on the barn floor.

“What?” exclaimed Caleb

“Put it on or do I need to tell the cops what I saw tonight?” the man said darkly

Begrudgingly, the three men lifted up the heavy metal bells and clasped them around their necks, struggling with the weight.

“Don't we need better fitting ones? This is almost down to my belly button, and it's so heavy as shit!” complained Jaques

“Oh that's gonna right itself now don't you worry kid” the man clicked his fingers and all three of the jocks began to feel queasy. “Now y’all will stay here now wont you? I need to go get some things.” The man walked out of the barn, followed by an *click* as the door was locked.

The three jocks looked at each other, a mixture of fear and confusion on each of their faces.

Suddenly, Caleb moaned.

“Oh guys, I feel really fucking weird” he said. He felt his balls tight against the fabric of his underpants, and when he looked down he could swear his bulge was bigger

“Guys, what’s happening?” His bulge was definitely getting bigger

“I don't know, but it's happening to me as well!” Jaques stared in horror as his sack grew with exponential speed until became so large it was visible against his baggy workout shorts

“Ohhhh” moaned Caleb as his jeans tore apart with a RIIIP and his engorged sack spilled out, exposing himself for all his bros to see.

Bonus pic

“What the fuck is that!” he exclaimed “It looks like a, a …”

“An udder”

Behind them, the farmer had returned with two buckets in hand. He was grinning

“The fuck is happening? I thought we were just gonna shovel some shit and be done?” the panic was clear in Caleb’s voice

“Never said nothing ‘bout that, told y’all that I needed work done. I ain't had no new muscle milk cows for a while, bout time I got myself a breeding pair or two” he smirked at the terrified jocks

“Speaking of” he looked over at Chad, who was growing a bulge of an entirely different sort than Caleb and Jaques. While their balls swelled to inhuman size, his member was growing longer and longer while his balls dropped lower and lower. His dick’s tip thinned, losing its mushroom-shape and becoming slender and pointed. Chad stared at his new member in horror, “I'm becoming a Bull”

“There's a smart kid! and what are thems bout to be?”

“C..Cows''

The stranger walked over to Caleb, grabbed his member and gave it a firm tug. Orgasmic pleasure rolled over Caleb as thick musky cum squirted out his erect cock from his full sack, causing him to moan

“Hear that? yer gonna be a cow. Looks like you two are coming along nicely, rest of yer new nipples should be coming bout now”

And so they did, pushing out of the two jocks swollen new udders emerged round fleshy nipples, each was a size and thickness that made indistinguishable from what had been their loved cocks.

With the udders fully formed, the farmer tugged the two shell shocked jocks over buckets, his skilled hands milking them simultaneously. At first, hot jets of thick white pungent cum squirted out of their udders, but as the rhythmic tugging and squeezing and massaging continued, the content of these spurts became thinner and turned pink until what they excreted was entirely warm, creamy, muscle milk. The farmer dipped his finger into the liquid for a taste. Satisfied, he then took the entire bucket and chugged, with each gulp his already toned frame grew harder and harder, his muscles expanding. “ ahh always best fresh.” he exclaimed, wiping his mouth of the warm, rich, creamy substance.

the already muscular jocks began to bulk as well, though not solely with muscle. Their stomachs, pecs and asses swelled bulbously with muscle that was then smothered with a thick layer of wobbling fat. This expansion left the clothes of the men as little more than rags. Their fingers merged together, nails thickening and darkening as their thumbs sunk into their hands, all the while the same was happening to their feet concealed by their worn sneakers. Soon in place of hands and feet, the jocks had hooves

As his body bulked up further, Caleb’s centre of gravity began to change. For a precious few seconds he wobbled and flailed, until ungraceful falling onto all fours. Try as he might, he would never again stand up. Jaques had better luck, keeping balance until he felt a harsh shove on his thick muscle ass and he too fell on his new hooves, humiliated.

Chad’s bull cock had been hard and throbbing all the while watching this, pumping him to the brim with raging bull hormones. He was overcome by the tide of testosterone, surrendering to base animal instinct. Nothing mattered save eating sleeping and fucking. Gone was all of his higher brain functions His body expanded thicker and thicker as he grew to a size that put his two bros to shame. From his head he felt a splitting pain as horns flushed out through his skin. No longer capable of speech, he roared in pain, a sound that deepened as it went on, becoming entirely animal as his vocal chords rearranged. He fell onto all fours, his feet and hands having been replaced with hooves and raw muscle.

As all three stood on all fours, the transformation accelerated. They felt as their organs rearranged in their massive bellies, their stomach splitting into five chambers as to better digest huge amounts of food. They lost control of their bowles, leaving piles of filth behind the widened holes. The taints of Jaques and Caleb sucked into their bodies, changing into the fertile wombs of muscle milk cows. The pheromones that they released drove the new bull into a frenzy and he mounted Caleb, who had only moments before been his best bro.

“I’ll leave you three too it, see ya tomorrow bright an early for milking” the farmer left the barn, not even bothering to even close the door.

The skin of the young men began changing, it hardened, thickening into a rough and thick hide as short, pink hair sprouted across it. The last thing to change was their heads, noses moistened, becoming wide flat across their faces, eyelashes grew and hair fell from their heads. The men’s ears elongated into cow ears, being covered with the same hair that was now thick across their bodies. Their mouths pushed out, becoming snouts as their screams of lust as they mated lowered to base, animalistic grunts, moans then finally moo’s. Finally, Jaques and Caleb began to lose their minds, Chad having already succumbed to his base animal lust. Memories of being human disappeared from them, lives at school and at home, their crushes, their best and worst games everything was replaced with memories of gorging on grass, being milked (or mounting) and restfully sleeping in the barn.

Despite this, there is evidently still present a bond between the three .The two new cows are inseparable. The same might be said of our new bull, though his mind would treat anything with a hole as an intimate friend

The Muscle milk produced at Green Valley farms is the best protein supplement on the market. Made free range, muscle milk cows are cared for in their every want to get the best possible product for you!

#animal tf #animal transformation #cow tf #feral tf

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potter-imagines · 4 years

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George Weasley Dating Ravenclaw!Reader Would Include...

- George loves to take photos of you

- Like absolutely adores it

- His side of his dorm has at least ten different pics of the two of you taped to the walls

- Fred never misses an opportunity to taunt George for this

- “Jesus, George, you’d think you’re an obsessive stalker with the amount of photos you have of Y/n. Kinda of concerning…”

- George brings you home for Christmas break

- Molly adores you- like is way more excited to see you walking through the front door, rather than her actual children. “Y/n! Oh, Y/n, dear, you look beautiful! Come inside! Out of the cold you go- I’ve got a warm cup of tea waiting for you, dear.”

- Fred would walk in behind you rolling his eyes mumbling, “Good to see you too, birth giver. I missed you as well, love you too.”

- Pulling all nighters with him

- Some were for studying, some just to spend some more time with each other, and some because you two couldn’t seem to uh, ‘fall asleep’ or rather, keep your hands off one another

- If you didn’t know how to already, George would teach you how to play Quidditch

- You’re typically the little spoon and even though he’d never mention in aloud, he secretly loved when you were the big spoon

- When you first started dating, George’s friends would tease him for being with a Ravenclaw

- They classed you as a stereotypical Ravenclaw, before even speaking with you

- Fred reassured them they’d like you but Ron was skeptical

- Mostly because he couldn’t understand why a Ravenclaw was dating his brother

- Although you were a true Ravenclaw at heart, that didn’t mean you were a bookworm ‘nerd’ who only cared about school and had your nose to the sky

- Most Ravenclaws you knew were more honest that stuck up, you had a tendency to say exactly what you thought

- And George loved this

- He had never met a girl like you before- one who served it the teasing and flirtatious wilderness right back to him

- He’d plan extravagant jokes with his twin to try an woo you

- Your friends would giggle and whisper whenever George came around, all staring at you knowingly

- They had all placed bets on how long it would take George Weasley, the jokester Gryffindor, to ask you, the clever and competitive Ravenclaw, out on a date

- It only took about two weeks after that for him to make the first move

- After Potions class, George would walk with you in towards the Great Hall, complimenting you the entire way

- You two would sit together, much to your surprise and by the end of the meal, he would ask you out on a proper date for that weekend to Hogsmeade

- He’d buy magical eternal flowers at Hogsmeade on your first date

- Flirting doesn’t die down with George just because you’re a couple

- If anything, he becomes cheekier and touchier

- He isn’t huge on PDA, but he likes when you sit on his lap in the courtyard or either of your common rooms.

- PDA for the two of you is more hand holding, forehead kisses, arm around your shoulder, small pecks, tight hugs before class, etc.

- Snape had scolded the two of you more time than you could count “There will be no embracing of any sorts outside, or inside my class, Miss. Y/l/n and Mr. Weasley.” “Yes, professor. We’re sorry-” “No we’re-“ Having to drag George away before he gets you two into more trouble.

- He’d call you sweet names like; love, darling, princess, and angel (His favorite name to use in the bedroom.).

- But his absolute favorite nickname for you is “little Ravenclaw”

- He loves buying you maroon presents

- He likes to think he’s secretly converting you to a Gryffindor, but he knew you had too much pride for your house and would never fully switch to his side

- You two will play childish games like hide and seek around the castle during the weekends

- It’s more fun when you include your other friends

- But when it’s just you and George playing

- The game typically ends with the two of you half naked in an empty classroom

- Walks behind you up the stairs so he can pinch your butt “George- knock it off!” “But it’s so cute and I wanna touch it.” “Not now.”

“So you’re saying there will be a later, right?”

- Studying together

- Despite common assumption, George Weasley is exceptionally brilliant

- You two have competitions on who can score the highest mark

- George was usually a point or two away from you but it didn’t stop you from gloating

- “Ha, ha, Georgie. Take that! Now you owe me a back massage and a butterbeer this weekend!” “I can give you more than a backrub, darling.” “George!”

- Sneaking him into the Ravenclaw towers past curfew

- He loves that you are willing to break rules for him

- It exhilarating to you both

- You’re very close with his friends- especially Fred and Hermione

- Fred and George would convince you to help them with pranks, little at a time

- But soon enough

- You’d basically becoming a trio

- They’d find a way to drag you into planning and executing nearly all their pranks with them

- It made you extremely nervous at first

- You had never been in real trouble before, and it wasn’t something you desired

- But George would reassure you constantly “Love, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to, we won’t be upset. But if you do, I won’t let anything happen to you or let you get caught. I promise, darling.”

- And he never failed to keep his word

- Until one day

- There was one time, late winter of your final year

- Fred and George were readying to leave Hogwarts to open their shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and had invited you to join them

- You contemplated the thought for a week before deciding to finish off the end of your year, then move in with George and his brother once summer came

- The twins’ pranking antics had grown more intense since Umbridge arrived

- Everyone despised her- well except the Slytherin’s who she favored

- The twins’ landed themselves in detention with her on more than five occasions and they had enough

- Late one Saturday in February, Fred and George had enchanted a portal swamp outside Umbridge’s office door, a spell you had taught them

- Right as the swamp appeared, footsteps began to approach quickly from behind

- Fred darted left and George took off after him, both assuming you’d follow

- But panic hit and you ran in the opposite direction, smacking right into Filch, Umbridge emerging not long after from the other corridor

- You were caught red handed, Umbridge took the wand in your grip as enough evidence to prosecute you

- George had reached the end of the corridor when he turned around and realized you weren’t behind him but by the time he and Fred stealthily snuck back to Umbridge’s office

- The door was swinging shut

- And the once bubbling green swamp was gone

- Not long passed before George could hear your voice and his chest stiffened at once

- The twins hid behind a wall, until George ushered Fred off to monitor the hall leading towards their common room

- Ten or so minutes passed until the door squeaked open and you quickly rushed off, salty tears threatening to spill over your eyes

- George yanked you softly from behind a wall before you could make it up the first step of the shifting stairs

- You hissed in pain when his fingers unknowingly wrapped around your fresh wound “Ow, my hand- George it hurts.”

- His eyes would widen, then soften with comfort as he studies your hand “Darling, I’m so sorry. I should’ve taken the fall- I should’ve realized you weren’t following us and went back sooner. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

- You’d cry, not because you were mad at him or blame him but because of the never ending burning sensation in your bloodied hand

- You’d reassure him and insist it was your own fault

“I froze, Georgie. I’m the only one to blame. I don’t know why I didn’t go the same way as you guys, I just got scared of getting caught… and now this happened cause I was dumb.” “You’re not dumb, darling, don’t say that. I promised to never let you get hurt because of one of our pranks and I broke that promise. Umbridge is a cold bitch, I can’t keep putting you in these risks situations and letting you get hurt.”

- He’d sneak you into his dorm that night

- None of his friends would oppose, especially after hearing about what happened

- Fred and Lee slept on the large couches in the common room so the two of you could have the night alone

- George is an amazing cuddling partner- like the best

- You two would lay in his bed together, snuggled under a stack of blankets

- He’d convince you to wear one of his Gryffindor shirts

- Then take a picture of you in it when you weren’t paying attention to tease you with

- “I’m going to show this to all your little Ravenclaw friends to show them that you’re really a Gryffindor!” “Am not! I’m a Ravenclaw-“ “I’m gonna put some Gryffindor inside of you tonight, princess.” “You dirty bastard! Don’t you say that in front of any of my friends, please, I’m begging you.” “I’m sure they already know, love. It’s not like they haven’t heard us before.”

- You would get annoyed beyond beliefs after being with George for years and your friends still confusing him with Fred, or assuming they were the same person

- You loved Fred, but you were in-love with George, and there were many differences between them besides your relationship status

- Fred was the friend who could cheer you up, listen to you rant, help you get revenge on a professor for poor marks, hangout with you, give you advice, and all the great qualities that a best friend should have

- But George Weasley

- George was all of the above and more

- He had a different thought process- slightly different mindset than his twin

- You loved the deep, intellectual conversations you could have with George

- One moment you two would be discussing the purpose of life and the origination of languages

- Then the next you’d be debating over the worst flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans

“George, how you can you even argue this? You know vomit and rotten egg are the two worst flavors!” “Vomit, yes. Rotten eggs, no. I’d take that over earthworm. Now that one is bloody disgusting!”

- There was a connection- a magnetic pull that drew you and George together

- He understood you on a more personal level than any other person you knew

- There were secrets he’d share with you late at night that not even Fred knew

- Like how he wanted to be a Mediwizard up until his fourth year

- George would bring you books he’d read on break for you

- You two liked to start a book together right before break, then finish over break and talk about it once you returned to each other

- Fred would tease George relentlessly for reading over the holiday break “God, next thing I know you’re going to starting knitting sweaters with each other and painting your nails together.” “Jealous, Fred? A shame you can’t find an intelligent girl of your own but don’t be made that I have.”

- George will write you letters when you’re away for each other

- He’ll do cute little things like send a single dainty flower that he picked from his mom’s garden and seal it inside the envelope

- His favorite to gift you are lilacs- the smell reminds him of you and is comforting when you’re gone

- He’s always been a bit more in touch with his emotional side than his twin

- But you loved those differences

- You two hard a pretty serious relationship from the start but that didn’t mean you weren’t playful

- Both George and you knew you wanted to spend forever together the first time you walked through Hogsmeade together

- And neither of you wanted to waste anytime fooling around when you knew what you wanted

- George is a honest gentleman, always putting your needs first

- Even after you leave Hogwarts with the twins

- With all his busy work and the booming business and success of the shop, you assumed your time together would be spared

- It was in a way

- But George always put in the extra effort to keep the spark alive

- Before opening the shop, he’d usually try to set your alarm clock back three hours in hopes of you getting the extra sleep he knew you deserved

- Sometimes it worked, but other times you’d meet him in the shop at open with a smug smile on your face “Love, you should be asleep! You’re too clever, little Ravenclaw.” “You still call me that, even after all this time?” “You’ll always be my little Ravenclaw. I could never love another.”

- He’ll surprise you during work with random sweets, sentimental cards, picking you up lunch and a coffee/tea, and buying you flowers

- George can be extremely sweet when he wants to and for you, there is never a moment where he doesn’t

- The two of you would get married shortly after the second war ended, not that anyone was surprised.

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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years

Text

Incentive

Summary: Wanda gives you an incentive to get out of bed and eat breakfast after a mission.

Features: Smut; Mild Domme Wanda Maximoff; Cranky Bucky Barnes

Kink: Eating Out

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/Reader; Background Polyamorous!Avengers

Notes: Day Two of Kinktober! This one has more plot than smut, but there is definitely a nice bit of smut...I’m lowkey building my Polyamorous!Avengers universe this Kinktober

Word Count: 1572

The sun was over the horizon, but you were not yet vertical. No, you had no interest in joining the rest of the waking world. Your curtains were drawn shut, shrouding your room in darkness. You could hear shuffling past your door as the others went about their mornings. You could pick up the quiet murmurs of conversation between two people outside your door before the door opened. You heard Wanda speak to Steve before shutting your door behind her.

“Rise and shine, love,” you heard her say. You grumbled, pulling your blanket further over your head. You’d had a late night, getting back past three AM from a mission with Bucky and Natasha, which was exhausting in more ways than one. You loved and hated being on missions with just the two of them.

“Let me sleep, witch,” you said, your voice laced with exhaustion.

“Steve wants you to at least eat breakfast, you know how he is,” she said.

“The Captain and kindly go shove his breakfast where the sun don’t shine,” you said. You felt her sit on your bed before she gently peeled the covers back. She had flipped on the fairy lights that lined your room. You preferred the softer light of them to those of the lamps in your room, or worse, the overhead lights.

“Sweetie, you know you can’t hide away. You’ll feel better after you eat. Did you eat when you got in?” she asked, a gentle hand upon your arm, running in soothing circles. You sighed.

“No,” you said, pulling your pillow over your head. You wanted to sleep in.

“You know the rules. If you don’t eat when you get in, you’re subject to being woken up to eat,” she said as she pulled the pillow away. You hated that rule with a passion. You knew why it existed. There were far too many times where one of you would go hours without eating after a mission, getting too wrapped up in paperwork, more training, and other obligations. Or in your case, catching up on sleep.

“Are Tasha and Buck awake?” you asked.

“Steve’s gone to wake Bucky. Tasha ate before she slept,” Wanda said.

“Of course she did,” you snarked. Wanda let out a light laugh.

“If you get up and have breakfast, I’ll make it worth your while,” Wanda said, her voice dropping. You sat up a little bit at that.

“I’m listening,” you said. You may have still been worn out from the mission, but you would never turn her down unless there was a good reason beyond being stubborn about breakfast.

“If you come with me and eat breakfast like a good girl, you’ll be coming in another way,” she said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing up. You almost fell, tangled in your sheets scrambling out of bed to follow her.

Bucky was glaring at Steve when you entered the kitchen, arms crossed staring at the plate of eggs as if they had personally offended him. Bruce was manning the stove, placing food in containers on the counter, buffet style. Sam was sat on the couch, Clint’s legs across his lap as he munched on the last of a piece of toast.

“Morning sunshine,” Clint said from the couch. You flipped him off as you sat down next to Bucky.

“What’d Steve do this time?” you asked.

“Cold water. What about Wanda?” he asked. You smirked.

“She made some promises,” you replied. You were sure you caught him cursing Steve under his breath.

“She gets promises, I get cold water. Can Wanda wake me up next time?” Bucky asked.

“Eat when you get in from a mission and there won’t be a next time. Besides, you use promises as an excuse to stay in bed. She,” Steve said, pointing at you, “listens and gets out of bed when promises are made.”

“Her? Listen? In what universe?” Bucky asked.

“If given the right incentive…,” you said, trailing off. Steve gave you a look that had you turning to the plate Wanda placed in front of you. Your favorites covered the surface of it. You were almost certain you wouldn’t be able to finish it all.

You helped clean up once everyone was done, quietly washing the dishes with Bucky and Sam as music played in the background. By the sound of it, it was Wanda’s playlist. You slipped away to your room once the dishes were done, wanting to get a shower in. Wanda made a promise, but you weren’t sure when she’d make good on it.

You emerged from your bathroom to find Wanda waiting, dressed in only a short robe. You almost dropped your towel then and there. She had lit the candles you had around your room, the light scent of lavender filling the room. You made a note to change them out for your favored fall scents.

“Come, lay down,” Wanda said as she approached you, pulling your towel from you, leaving you nude. Your room was kept at a comfortable temperature, never too cold. Your body was reacting, both to the temperature and what was to come as you felt your nipples harden and your core dampen more than it had been in anticipation. She pulled you toward the bed, gently spinning you around before pushing you lightly to sit.

You scooted up the bed to the pillows, making sure you were situated on the towel Wanda had laid on your bed. She had laid down several large towels, which were kept at the foot of your bed in a chest that also contained your favored toys.

“So wet already, my love. Someone is eager this morning, hm?” she asked as she pulled off her robe. You took in the sight of her. You saw the harness sitting on the edge of the bed, which sent another shock of arousal through you. Oh yeah. You certainly were being rewarded today.

“Yes, Wanda please,” you said, coming out as more of a whine. She gave you a light smack on your thigh in warning.

“Patience. You’ve been so good this morning,” she said as she situated herself between your spread legs. She kissed her way up one leg, one of her favorite ways to tease you. She neared the apex and pulled away. You bit back a groan as she repeated this on the other side. Instead of pulling away a second time, she continued toward your pussy. You knew she’d ignore your clit for as long as possible. Wanda loved to draw your pleasure out.

You almost bucked up when her tongue made contact with your pussy. She was focusing her attention on your hole, pressing one finger in as she lapped at your juices. She hooked her finger, hitting your g-spot ever so slightly before adding a second finger. Her tongue moved up, closer to your clit as you let out a loud moan. You felt her smile against you as she increased the speed at which her fingers moved in and out of you before adding a third finger. The sound it made was positively dirty and you reveled in it. You were beyond soaked. Just as she was about to reach your clit, she pulled away, leaving you wanting as she withdrew her fingers as well.

She returned with a vibrator, clicking it on as she pressed it into you before returning her mouth to your pussy as she worked it in and out. You felt the pleasure peaking as she finally touched you where you wanted. Her tongue swirled around your clit as she ramped up the intensity of the vibrator, sending you crashing over the edge with a scream as stars danced in your vision.

As you came down from the high and opened your eyes, you saw Wanda looking positively wrecked, her face soaked with your release as she grinned at you, before pulling you into a messy kiss.

“Your turn,” you said breathlessly before pulling her into another kiss.

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

Bucky glared at Steve when he heard your scream. He had been subjected to hearing you and Wanda for the past hour and he was far from happy about it. Not when Wanda had you crying out over and over as she pulled you over the edge again and again. The others didn’t seem bothered. They were the lucky ones. Soundproofing did nothing against the hearing of a super soldier, at least, not the soundproofing at the compound. He glanced over at Steve who was gripping his newspaper harder than one should.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“No Buck. It’s their time,” Steve said.

“Fuck it. You’re coming with me,” Bucky said before he stood up and grabbed Steve, dragging him off to his room. Natasha smirked from where she sat sipping on her coffee as Sam and Clint both handed her a $20 bill.

“I thought he’d hold out longer,” Clint grumbled.

“We all know Barnes’ libido is on a hair trigger after a mission,” Natasha said before setting her cup down and following after the pair. Clint shared a look with Sam, who just shook his head.

“We have training with the recruits. We drew the short straws. Come on Barton,” Sam said, heading toward the elevator. Clint sighed as he looked wistfully in the direction of your room and the direction the trio had disappeared in. Next time, he reasoned, before following after Sam.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #jbbkinktober2020 #wanda maximoff/reader #wanda maximoff reader insert #scarlet witch/reader #scarlet witch x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel

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writerofthecourt · 4 years

Text

bento boxes, from me to you

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: osamu receives a bento box from you. it’s too bad you can’t cook to save your life

warning: some swearing

a/n: i just wanted an excuse to write about food. also, writing out kansai-ben is so hard. how do other people do this??

Osamu loved food.

Of all the things in this world, food was probably one of Osamu’s top priority, triumphing even over his own twin brother. Then again, there were plenty of things in this world that Osamu loved more than Atsumu, but that was a conversation for another day. In any case, Osamu really loved food, whether it be cheap convenience store egg sandwiches, hearty tonkatsu ramen, or his mom’s home cooked meals. He had no particular preference when it came to food. To Osamu, all food was delicious and should be appreciated equally.

So imagine his surprise when he had entered his classroom from early morning practice, only to find a sizable bento box sitting on top of his desk, daintily wrapped in a simple blue cloth. Suna, who was also in his class, walked in following Osamu and raised a curious eyebrow at the box in question.

Now, Osamu was no stranger to receiving gifts from fans, it came with the territory of being a starting lineup member on a nationally recognized volleyball team. Nevertheless, he still made it a habit to never accept gifts in the form of food. Inarizaki fans could be a bit enthusiastic, and he didn’t want to set a precedent. One bento box today could mean eight bento boxes tomorrow, and he didn’t want to waste all of that food.

However, his wariness soon transformed into amusement and delight once he saw the little note and familiar handwriting peeking out from underneath the bento box. Grabbing it, Osamu read your note.

‘samu,

you need more than just yakisoba bread for lunch! good luck with practice this afternoon, i’ll be cheering you on

-love, [y/n]

p.s. there’s enough for ‘tsumu and suna if they want. sharing is caring

Osamu fondly smiled at your note. He couldn’t wait for lunch.

When lunchtime finally rolled around, Osamu was beyond excited to uncover what kind of culinary concoction you had cooked up for him. Although he was more than capable of cooking himself a proper lunch, volleyball practice usually left him too sore and exhausted to put his culinary skills to use. His parents were also too busy with work, often leaving him and Asumu with some money to buy lunch before heading off to their respective workplaces.

Therefore, to have a home cooked meal for lunch after so long, excitement didn’t even begin to describe what Osamu was feeling at that moment. While his face remained neutral, the anticipation that radiated off of the grey haired Miya was evident enough for Suna to give him a weird look as he pulled up a seat next to Osamu’s desk.

“Hey,” Atsumu greeted as he entered the partially busy classroom and situated himself on the chair of the unoccupied desk in front of Osamu. “The hell’s that?”

“I think [Y/N] made him a bento box,” Suna explained as he unwrapped his own bento box. After a quiet prayer of thanks, Suna dug into his lunch and contently ate away at his humble meal of rice, seasoned vegetables, and grilled salmon.

“Ugh, couples,” Atsumu groaned, tearing open the plastic packaging of his store bought katsu sandwich.

Rolling his eyes at his twin’s behaviour, Osamu offered up a quick prayer of thanks as well before he unwrapped and opened his bento box. What he was greeted with was truly…something.

Noticing Osamu’s blank stare, Atsumu and Suna looked down at Osamu’s lunch before the blond Miya burst out into a deafening guffaw that made the other students of the classroom glance at the trio with strange looks.

The bento box, while containing the usual rice, vegetables, and proteins, also shamelessly gave away tell-tale signs that you weren’t exactly skilled in the kitchen. The carrots and cucumbers were sliced hilariously uneven, the tamagoyaki looked like a misshapen lump of egg, and the poor, poor octopus sausages. Yet the greatest offender would have to be the nori decorated illustration you had tried to top the rice with. Was that supposed to be him?

“Oh my god, i-it’s ‘Samu!” Atsumu wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “I-I always knew ya were ugly, but I-I didn’t think [Y/N] would actually agree with me!”

“We have the same face, dumbass,” Osamu retorted with a scowl.

Atsumu continued to laugh away, clutching his chair for support while Osamu glared daggers into his brother’s face. Suna, on the other hand, simply whipped out his phone and snapped a not-so-stealthy picture of Osamu’s lunch. He stared at it for a bit before grimacing.

“Yikes,” Suna whispered as he expertly tapped away at his phone before returning it to his pocket and resuming his lunch.

Osamu scoffed at Atsumu and Suna’s antics. Surely, it tasted better than it looked. Gathering a little bit of everything, Osamu shoved the ball of food into his mouth and immediately regretted it. The rice was overly mushy, the tamagoyaki was too sweet, the sausages were burnt, and the vegetables had a bitter, medicinal taste to them. Simply put, everything was terrible.

Shooting up from his desk, Osamu immediately charged out of the classroom, looking pale and sweaty, with a hand over his mouth to prevent his food from making a reappearance.

Watching Osamu leave, Atsumu and Suna looked at each other in horror before glancing back at the supposedly innocent bento box. They then proceeded to back away from it as if it was now emanating some sort of dark and menacing aura.

“…I’ll give you ¥500 if you eat a piece of the tamagoyaki,” Suna challenged.

“Bet!”

Atsumu quickly followed after his brother.

As the school bell rang, signalling the end of the day, Osamu slowly packed up his things, being careful not to make any sudden movements that would further upset his stomach. Despite everything Osamu had gone through, he still managed to somehow finish off your bento box, not wanting to let your hard work go to waste.

Practice was in thirty minutes, and Atsumu stood outside of the classroom door, yelling at his brother and Suna to hurry it up so that they wouldn’t be late.

“Ya look like shit,” Atsumu remarked once Osamu and Suna exited the classroom.

I feel like shit, Osamu thought, clutching his stomach as it let out an upset rumble.

Before he could even respond, a sweet voice from down the hall redirected his attention.

“‘Samu!” you called out as you reached the three volleyball players. “And ‘Tsumu and Suna, of course.”

Osamu smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and beamed up at him. He greeted you back before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Whipped!” Atsumu mocked as Suna, who stood beside him, made a whipping motion with his hand.

“Yer just mad that ya can’t make any lasting relationships and that yer last girlfriend broke up with ya for a co-worker,” Osamu shot back immediately, not missing a beat.

Atsumu stared at his brother in shock, failing to say anything in retort. With an angry huff, he marched towards the direction of the gym, calling for Suna to follow after him. Suna simply rolled his eyes before nodding goodbye to you and Osamu as he headed off to catch up with Atsumu.

You waved Suna farewell before leaning against your boyfriend as he led you to a less populated section of the hallway.

“So,” you began eagerly. “Did’ja like the bento box I made ya?”

“Yeah,” Osamu flawlessly lied, no longer looking at your face as the guilt consumed him. Reaching into his bag, he held out the bento box for you to take, all neatly wrapped up in its signature blue cloth once again.

“That’s great!” you beamed while taking the bento box from him. “I stayed up all night making sure that it was perfect. I wasn’t sure about the seasoning, but I’m glad it turned out well!”

As you animatedly chattered away about all of the steps that you had gone through in order to make his lunch, Osamu couldn’t help but notice the several bandages covering your fingers.

“What happened to yer fingers?” Osamu asked, his voice laced with concern. He took a hold of your hand, running his thumb across the smooth texture of one of the many bandages.

“Oh,” your face began to heat up with embarrassment, “I-I kinda cut myself while cooking, but it’s okay! Yer worth it, ‘Samu.”

“What d’ya mean by that?” he asked, confused by your last statement.

“Well, yer always hard at work with volleyball,” you explained with a proud look on your face. “Tournaments are coming up soon, and I know that practice will only get tougher from here on out! I just wanted to help ya in any way that I could. A growing athlete needs a proper meal, so…”

Smiling shyly to yourself, you no longer looked at Osamu, choosing instead to stare off to the side in embarrassment at your own confession. Osamu couldn’t help but feel his heart palpitating in his chest. All this effort, all those cuts, they were all for him because you loved and cared for him.

“[Y/N],” Osamu whispered, leaning down to wrap his arms around your frame.

Stop it, he told himself. Tell her the truth.

Digging his face into your neck, Osamu placed a soft kiss on the exposed landscape of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank ya. I’d be more than happy if ya kept cooking for me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Shaking your head, you brought up a hand to run your fingers through Osamu’s soft locks. “Not at all! I’d be happy to!”

Osamu smiled. “I’m glad.”

He was so fucked.

As the week went on, your bento boxes became a permanent fixture in Osamu’s life, greeting him every morning as he entered the classroom, its soft, blue cloth taunting him and mocking him as he pushed himself to eat every single one of your meals. Atsumu called him crazy for putting himself into this situation, while Suna took some sort of sadistic pleasure in recording his struggles with your cooking.

“Just tell [Y/N] the truth!” Atsumu told him one time during practice when Osamu had to sit out due to severe stomachaches.

How was he supposed to do that? How could he tell you the truth after nearly a week of putting on this lie? Besides, every time he tried to work up the courage to tell you the truth, you would just smile at him as he handed back the empty bento box, giggling in pure happiness when he told you that he had eaten everything because your cooking was so good. Every time he saw how accomplished and happy you looked, he felt his resolve crumble.

He was weak, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Atsumu of all people. At least he couldn’t die from eating your food…right?

“Yer gonna die if ya keep eating [Y/N]’s food,” Atsumu proclaimed as he, Osamu, and Suna made their way towards the gym for practice. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but ma and pa would be bawling their eyes out.”

“Shuddup, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu snapped back. This situation was already causing him enough physical and emotional stress as it was, and he didn’t need his obnoxious twin brother to make it worse.

“I’m just sayin’,” Atsumu said, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “I mean, it’s kinda impressive with how much ya been puking lately.”

“Listen, I know her food’s bad, but what am I supposed to do about it?” Osamu angrily asked as the three of them reached the entrance of the gym.

Atsumu paused for a moment, bringing a hand to his chin to contemplate as if he actually had a brain up there in his head. “Hmm, tell her the truth? Ya could try that.”

“I’m not gonna do that-”

“Uh, guys,” Suna interrupted, pointing to a familiar figure behind them. There you stood with a large tupperware filled to the top with poorly shapened onigiri balls, all made the previous night and meant to be shared with the Inarizaki volleyball club.

Tears rolled down your face, indicating that you had heard their conversation. Without a word, you ran back into the school, leaving a shocked Osamu behind.

“[Y/N], wait!” Osamu called out as he took off after you.

“Oi, ‘Samu! What about practice—and he’s gone…”

An awkward silence soon enveloped the air before Suna spoke up. “…¥1,000 says that they break up today.”

“Not now, Suna.”

As Osamu chased you through the empty school halls, he had never been more grateful for all his years of volleyball, as his superior height and stamina allowed him to easily keep up with you and eventually catch you.

“[Y/N]!” Osamu shouted as he managed to grasp your shoulder, pinning you against the wall in some remote corner of the staircase.

“Let me go, ‘Samu!” you seethed, trying to push him away. It was a difficult task considering he was basically a wall of lean muscle. “I don’t wanna talk right now!”

“No, please! Just listen to me,” Osamu desperately tried to explain. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to hurt yer feelings after ya had worked so hard on those bento boxes-”

“I’m not upset about the bento boxes!” you snapped harshly. “Sure, I’m a little upset about that, but I’m a lot more upset with the fact that you didn’t seem to trust me enough to tell me the truth!”

Osamu quickly shut his mouth after that.

“I-I thought this relationship was built on trust and communication,” you continued wobbly, a new wave of tears falling from your eyes. “Did’ja really think that I’m not mature enough to handle some criticism? Like you needed to lie in order to keep me happy? D-did’ja really have no faith in me?”

Processing your words, Osamu came to the realization that you were right. Did he have no faith in you? Of course not, Osamu thought the world of you. You were always the mature one in the relationship, always finding out ways to calm him down after a fight with Atsumu or cheering him back up when the pressures of school and volleyball weighed heavily on his mind. At that moment, Osamu knew he was wrong.

“[Y/N], I-I’m sorry. Yer right,” he admitted as the shame and guilt began to creep up on him. He looked at your tear-stained face and gave you a sombre smile before wiping your cheeks clean. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

“No, yer not a shitty boyfriend,” you said as you hugged him, finally calming down after your emotional outburst. “Ya were just trying to protect my feelings…”

“Yeah, but I went about it the wrong way. I shoulda just told ya from the beginning. I’m sorry.”

You sighed as you buried yourself deeper into Osamu’s chest, his warmth and scent calming you down further. “I accept yer apology. No more lies, okay?”

“Yeah,” Osamu agreed softly before cupping your face to capture your lips in a tender kiss. As you melted into the kiss, you brought up a hand to tangle in your boyfriend’s hair. After the two of you separated, you both chuckled at each other’s dazed and out of breath state.

“If yer free this Sunday, why don’t I come over to yer house and teach ya how to cook,” Osamu suggested as he rubbed the skin underneath your pretty eyes.

“Isn’t that yer free day? Don’t ya wanna rest?” you asked him seriously.

“It’s fine. Cooking’s fun, and it’ll be even more fun with ya there. Besides,” Osamu grinned, remembering your words from a week ago, “yer worth it, [Y/N].”

You smiled, knowing exactly what he was referencing. “It’s a date then!”

The following week, Suna and Atsumu gathered around Osamu’s desk as per their usual lunchtime routine. The two of them warily glanced at Osamu as the grey haired Miya brought out an all too familiar bento box wrapped in a blue cloth.

Saying a quick prayer of thanks, Osamu unwrapped his bento box and began to eat away at his meal of rice, salad, and crispy karaage chicken. Atsumu and Suna stared in shock as Osamu devoured his lunch with a pleased smile and delighted hum.

“Uhhh, are ya seeing this shit, Suna?” Atsumu whispered to the middle blocker in bewilderment.

“Maybe he’s built up a resistance to it,” Suna reasoned, continuing to cast Osamu a strange look.

Sneaking a peek at Osamu’s lunch, Atsumu and Suna’s eyes widened at the delicious and aesthetic display of food: fluffy white rice, crisp and crunchy vegetables sliced up in perfect uniformity, and perfectly fried karaage chicken shining with sauce.

“O-oi, ‘Samu, let me have a bite,” Atsumu demanded, feeling his mouth water at the enticing sight and smell of the food.

“What the hell? No,” Osamu answered back, pulling the bento box away from Atsumu’s immediate range. “[Y/N] made this for me.”

“Don’t be greedy, ya stingy bastard,” Atsumu snapped, lunging out of his seat to make a grab for the bento box.

A fight soon broke out between the two Miya brothers as the other students around them all sighed and shook their heads in amusement. Just another day at Inarizaki High.

Meanwhile, Suna, who had remained in his seat, silently pulled out his phone and began to record Osamu shoving Atsumu’s face away with his elbow, keeping his precious bento box out of the blond’s reach.

“WorldStar,” Suna whispered as he zoomed in on Atsumu tripping over some desks in a desperate attempt to grab the bento box.

Just another day at Inarizaki High indeed.

fun fact: atsumu never got his money from suna, and kita made osamu run five laps around the school when he finally showed up for practice

#miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #miya osamu #miya atsumu #suna rintarou

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twinklebrain · 4 years

Text

Dream a little dream

A ficlet. Even a super-sleuth like Lu Yao gets nightmares. Fortunately someone’s watching over him.

No spoilers. But it helps to have watched episode 22-23

Excuse the grammar.

He’s running. His breathing uneven and rough. His footsteps are clumsy, and he hits a loose tile. Like slow motion, he feels himself losing balance as he tumbles into a half stumble, but just as quickly he picks himself up again. His feet move automatically forward. The sound of his heartbeat drums loudly in his ears, like loud waves crashing against the seashore. He doesn’t look behind, but he knows they are close. His chest tightens. Exhaustion assaults his senses. But still he keeps on running.

Lu Yao awakens with a start; his pyjamas drenched in sweat. He blinks, barely focused on the scene in front of him. The pale moonlight streams through the window and his mind registers his bedroom.

‘I’m home’. A question. Or a statement. He doesn’t even know himself. His temples ache a dull pain, his body feels heavy. Finally, he gets up, his feet search clumsily for his bedroom slippers. He wonders momentarily if he left his copy of “The Hound of the Baskervilles” in the living room; after all, there will be no more sleep for what’s left of the night.

“You look like crap. Just how much did you drink last night? Or did you stay up reading your silly mysteries again?”

There is bite in Youning’s voice, but also concern. She knows Lu Yao would sense something amiss if she didn’t greet him with their usual barb.

“I think, that maybe I had a bad dream.”

Youning waits, wondering how much Lu Yao remembers. But Lu Yao offers nothing more but a barely perceptible shake of the head, as if clearing the cobwebs of last night’s memories.

Youning forces a laugh, “Aww, little Santu had a nightmare. Did you overeat at Heping Hotel; you know that indigestion can give you nightmares.”

Lu Yao gives her a look, opens his mouth, then closes. Without responding further, he turns his attention back to his plate of bacon and eggs. Visibly alarmed, Youning was about to charge another verbal attack when Chusheng stroll purposefully into the living room. He pretends he doesn’t notice Lu Yao’s pale pallor or Youning’s gaping mouth.

“Let’s go. There’s been a murder.”

Lu Yao is quiet during the car ride. Even his usual dramatic flair was visibly subdued at the crime scene; so much so that Ah Dou and Salim looked concern. But Chusheng’s hard stare stopped them from verbalising their worry aloud.

With Lu Yao preoccupied with questioning an eye witness, Chusheng raised an eyebrow pointedly towards Youning, his voice quiet, “Did you tell him what happened last night?”

She kept her eyes on Lu Yao, before answering, “He says he had a nightmare.”

Chusheng cocks his head sideway as a cloud of confusion passes through – the egotistic Lu Yao frightened by a nightmare? It made little sense to Chusheng. Only when Lu Yao gestured to them impatiently did he break out of his stupor.

“This isn’t the primary crime scene. The body was moved here afterwards.”

Chusheng nods. “So where do we go now?”

The bodies started piling. What appeared to be a simple murder case turned into a serial murder, taking the trio all over town. Lu Yao seemed oddly subdued as the case dragged out, neither once whining to Chusheng for the multiple late nights and lack of fixed meals, nor did he resort to exchanging barbs with Youning. While Chusheng was pleased over the absence of nonsensical bickering, he couldn’t help but notice Lu Yao nodding off at random moments, once even in the middle of questioning a suspect. It doesn’t take a detective to deduce that Lu Yao hadn’t been sleeping well - the dark circles under his eye-bags were a dead giveaway.

“I want to go through the files again. We must have missed something,” ventured Lu Yao after yet another lead gone south. As they went through the documents in Chusheng’s office, Youning suddenly gasped, “My dinner plans!”

She gave both men a curt nod and picked up her bag, “Don’t wait up!” she called out merrily before marching out.

With a disbelief look on his face, Chusheng then turned automatically towards Lu Yao. If he was expecting a fiery retort, he was sorely disappointed; Lu Yao was fully engrossed in the document before him, and didn’t shift his attention to look at Youning as she exited the room.

Chusheng rubbed his temples; as much as he appreciates the calm, he couldn’t help but miss the old Lu Yao.

“Lu Yao…”

No reply.

“Santu…”

Still no reply.

Chusheng moved. Waving a hand in front of Lu Yao’s face, he realised that his consultant had fallen asleep. Chusheng shook the young man’s shoulder, raising a sudden gasp of alarm as Lu Yao jumped in his seat.

“What the –“ He slapped the hand away, “Are you trying to send me to an early death?”

Chusheng looked worriedly at Lu Yao, “You fell asleep.”

The usual pout and a hard shake of the head, “I was thinking.”

Chusheng sighed but didn’t call his bluff, “Why don’t we take a break and grab some dinner? We can continue later.”

Chusheng was sure he heard a low grumble. To his surprise, Lu Yao took a long deep breath before answering firmly, “No, I’m fine. You go ahead.”

Chusheng moved his hand towards Lu Yao’s brow, half teasing, “Did you just say ‘no’ to food? Is Mao Mao having a fever? Or did he hit his head getting out of bed this morning?”

For the second time that evening, Lu Yao swiped the hand away irritably, his reply terse, “Stop calling me Mao Mao. I’m not a child.”

Burying his worry, Chusheng sighed dramatically, “Well if you’re going to stay here, be my guest. I’m going to the Western Hotel for a bite.”

An expected pause but Lu Yao merely turned a page, not rising to the bait.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Chusheng asked again as he grabbed his jacket.

“I’m fine.” Came the gruff reply.

At the door, Chusheng looked back once more at his desk where Lu Yao remained seated. A worried frown passed his features. Ah Dou who had jogged up to the stairs looked expectedly at Chusheng.

“Inspector Qiao?”

Chusheng shook his head, “Nothing.”

He had no intention of staying out long; just a quick bowl of noodle soup at the open stall downstairs. But a colleague from a neighbouring district happened to pass by and Chusheng ended up staying to listen to the elder’s rant. By the time he stood up, at least three hours had passed. Chusheng gestured for the owner to wrap up some buns – just in case.

The police station was quiet; but the light in his room was still on. As he opened the door, he found Lu Yao asleep on his couch, documents littered around the coffee table, the couch and on Lu Yao himself. Chusheng gave a half smile as he placed the buns on the coffee table, before bending to pick up the littered documents.

Whether it was the scent of the buns, or the movement in the room, Lu Yao shifted uneasily in his sleep as a half moan escaped his lips. The brows furrowed deep as a sudden twitch in Lu Yao’s left hand resulted in a noticeable paper crinkle in the document. Chusheng moved hesitantly forward, his left hand balanced against the head of the couch as his right hand reach steadily towards the paper still in Lu Yao’s hand.

“Don’t leave me!”

A sudden shout as Lu Yao sat up without warning, his forehead slam right into Chusheng’s chest, his right hand reached out and grip tight onto Chusheng’s arm.

“Owww!”

Lu Yao’s sudden momentum had knocked Chusheng off balance as he slipped, landing squarely against Lu Yao’s legs.

“The f*ck –“

A tangle of hands and legs as Chusheng tried to sit up, a feat rendered somewhat difficult by the fact that Lu Yao still had his arm in a death grip.

“Santu, you’re hurting me.”

Lu Yao released the arm as if it burned his fingers, but his eyes remained confused at the scene before him. It was rare to find Lu Yao in a befuddled state and Chusheng found his lips twitching upwards as he teased, “Is Mao Mao still dreaming?”

Eyes blazing, Lu Yao gave him an unceremonious kick against the ribs, and pulled his knees close to his chest, “What are you doing here Chusheng?”

He inwardly rolled his eyes; did Lu Yao forget this was his office? Seeing the space opened up, Chusheng chose instead to settle himself comfortably on the couch before responding airily, “Rescue mission.”

“What –“

Lu Yao’s eyes followed Chusheng’s towards his own hand, the paper now crumbled into a tight ball. The fingers loosen as Lu Yao mumbled incoherently under his breath. Taking advantage of Lu Yao’s discomfort, Chusheng inched closer.

“Lu Yao…”

The eyes looked up warily. Holding Lu Yao’s eyes, Chusheng breathed out, “I won’t leave you.”

The baby doe eyes widened as a slight pink brought colour to the pale cheeks, “Wait what?”

Chusheng smirked, “Just now, when you screamed in my ear, remember?”

A tinge of red marked Lu Yao’s ears as he averted Chusheng’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Chusheng stretched lazily, a playful dance on his lips as he observes Lu Yao’s poor attempts to curl himself into a ball, further against the other side of the couch.

He reached out a hand tentatively towards Lu Yao’s cheek. A slight quiver but Lu Yao stayed his place. After a moment, Lu Yao finally turned towards Chusheng. He breathed in deeply against Chusheng’s palm, like a cat waiting to be petted.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Lu Yao nodded. That night, he slept without dreams.

***

#my roommate is a detective #qiao chusheng #lu yao #明国侦探 #mriad

92 notes · View notes

ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Arame: Study All Day?

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~3k Rating: G Time Frame: Their first week of college Story Arc: Setsu’s Ceaseless Study Session Study All Day? Study All Night? A Nap a Day

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Author’s Note: Oh gods, I’m only a novel’s length into this fic and I’m already coming up with stuff that is going to force me to make retcons... because deities forbid I write my works in a normal, chronological order.

Also, apologies in advance to any Haruhi fans if this arc triggers any Endless Eight PTSD...

Also also, I bounce back and forth between focusing on Setsu and Ayu in this arc. I don’t think I’ve made the switch in the middle of any particular scene, but I do hope it’s obvious when the switches are made between scenes.

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Ayumu felt it coming but was unable to suppress the yawn from escaping.

“Excuse me.” She murmured, not wanting to disturb the other two girls at the table.

Yuu glanced over with a quick smile before returning her attention to her laptop. She probably hadn’t heard Ayumu through her headphones, but probably saw the movement out of the corner of her eye.

“Mm.” Was all of Setsuna’s response as she focused on her studies.

Ayumu tapped her phone screen to check the time and blinked when she realized how late it was. Well, she was certainly about to disturb them now. She closed her book and pushed herself out from under the kotatsu.

“Going to bed, Ayumu?” Yuu asked, sliding her headphones off one ear.

“Yeah.” Ayumu confirmed with a nod.

“Oh, sorry,” Setsuna looked up “give me a moment to clean up.”

“You can stay if you want, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said with a smile.

“You sure?”

“Of course. You should study where you are must comfortable and where you are free of distractions.” A thought occurred to Ayumu. “Me sleeping nearby won’t disturb you, right?”

“I don’t think so.” Setsuna replied. “And I do like studying here…”

“All the more reason to stay. Just don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t. Thank you, Ayumu-san. Good night.”

“Good night.” Ayumu said as she moved to her bed and climbed in.

“Sleep well, Ayumu.” Yuu added.

“Mm…”

“I’ll stay up with you for a little while longer, Setsuna-chan.” Yuu offered.

Setsuna replied with a smile before resuming her studies.

As Ayumu closed her eyes, her thoughts turned to recent events. Today had been the first day of classes for the three of them. She and Yuu were attending in-person classes while Setsuna was enrolled in an online university that more easily allowed her to divide her time between her new career as a professional idol and her studies.

The online courses were not based on the standard trimester system, rather a student progressed as fast or as slow as they desired, with a certain minimum pace expected. Once a student proved their competency in the material, they could move on to the next class. Ayumu was very happy Setsuna had found a way to please her parents by earning a degree without needing to only attend class part time and thus need extra time. However, she couldn’t help being concerned that the often overly ambitious girl would push herself too much.

In any case, Ayumu had said her piece for the night. She hoped Setsuna would heed her suggestion and turn in at a reasonable time.

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Ayumu stirred when there was movement on the mattress. She cracked open one eye to see Yuu sliding under the duvet beside her. Yuu murmured something unintelligible before releasing a content sigh and settling down.

Ayumu felt a smile tug at her lips as fond memories drifted through her mind. She and Yuu had many sleepovers throughout the years, usually at Ayumu’s apartment as Yuu’s couch was nowhere near as comfortable trying to fit them both, even as children. Though Yuu usually turned in at the same time as Ayumu, it was not completely uncommon for her to be engrossed in some activity, book, game or whatever, that she would stay up later. She would then crawl under the covers, collapse beside Ayumu, mumble something and be asleep in seconds.

The frequency of their sleepovers had dwindled a bit once they entered high school, due in no small part to Ayumu thinking of the practice as childish and that she should leave such things behind. Then when Yuu joined the music course, she started spending far too many nights writing songs for the idol club and the practice stopped altogether.

It ended up being Setsuna who revived their old routine by seeking places to watch anime away from home, even after her parents lifted their ban. She had come to prefer watching with friends and Ayumu and Yuu were happy to oblige. Many nights went a bit too long, so Ayumu would pull out futons for her guests, though Yuu always ended up in her bed anyway.

And now they were starting off their college careers with a sleepover. Or at least Yuu was…

Ayumu craned her neck up enough to see over Yuu’s head. She quickly spotted Setsuna, still sitting at the kotatsu, face lit by the artificial light of her laptop and eyes fervently scanning the screen.

“Remember not to stay up too late, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu called out softly.

“Mm…” Setsuna hummed and nodded, seeming to have barely registered the call through her focus.

Ayumu closed her eyes again and settled back down. Should she have set out a futon for Setsuna? Her room was the next one over, a scant few meters between their doors instead of kilometers that required a train ride. She would be fine. Probably.

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Ayumu opened her eyes to the sound her alarm and reached up to the shelf of her headboard to find her phone. Beside her, Yuu stirred, but otherwise did not wake. Ayumu smiled at the sight of her childhood friend and admired the scene for a moment before sitting up.

Movement from elsewhere in the room caught her eye. Setsuna was pushing herself up from where she had apparently slept, sprawled on the kotatsu.

“Good morning, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu greeted.

Setsuna yawned and stretched her arms up high before turning her attention to the nearby bed. “Good morning, Ayumu-san.” She said before opening her laptop, likely to resume studying.

“How late did you stay up?”

“I’m not honestly sure.” Setsuna admitted. “I… don’t remember closing my laptop or even falling asleep. Sorry for not going back to my room.”

“You’re fine.” Ayumu assured. “You’re always welcome. But I do have a futon and extra pillows you could use. Surly those would have been more comfortable than hunched over the table.”

“Hrm…”

“I just don’t want you to be sore for your practice later.”

Setsuna rubbed at her shoulder. “I guess I will have to do some extra stretches…”

Part of Ayumu wanted to offer a shoulder massage, but the other part was concerned about getting to class on time. As such, she remained quite as she climbed up over Yuu and out of bed.

“Anything in particular you want for breakfast, Setsuna-chan?”

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.”

“Alright.” Ayumu nodded and made her way to the kitchenette.

Ayumu remembered from cooking classes that eggs were on the list of foods that were supposed to help with concentration and memory, perfect for all the studying the three had in store for the week. She mentally scanned through the other items, most of which were not easy to keep in the limited space of a couple cupboards, a counter and a tiny fridge. There were a few things, however…

“Coffee or tea?” Ayumu directed the question to her studying friend, trying to remember what she drank in the morning after their sleepovers.

“I’m fine with whatever you’re already making.”

“Well, I’m making both since I prefer tea and Yuu-chan likes coffee.”

“Coffee then, thank you.”

“Alright.”

Not long after the coffee began brewing, Ayu heard Yuu stir and start to finally wake up.

“Good morning, Ayumu, Setsuna-chan.” Yuu greeted before yawning.

The other two occupants returned similar greetings as she slid out of bed and started doing something on her laptop. Ayumu delivered steaming mugs of caffeine before finishing up the morning meal and bringing that to the table as well. Yuu and Ayumu chatted casually as they ate while Setsuna’s attention rarely left her screen. Finally, the three went to wash up, get changed and ready for the day.

“Well, I’m heading out.” Ayumu announced, heading toward the entryway to put on her shoes.

“I’ll come with you.” Yuu said, joining her.

“Are you sure? You’re classes don’t start until well after mine.”

“I know, but I’ve always gone to school with Ayumu.” Yuu grinned. “Why should college be any different just because our classes start at different times?”

Ayumu smiled as well as she realized she couldn’t refute that, not that she would have wanted to anyway.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said to her other friend. “As I said last night, you should study wherever you’re most comfortable.”

Setsuna looked up from her work for a moment. “Thank you, Ayumu-san. I’ll be sure to lock up when I head to the studio later.”

“Have fun at practice!” Yuu called, stepping out the door.

“Will do.” Setsuna nodded.

“See you this evening.” Ayumu added.

“Mm.” Setsuna hummed a happy reply.

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“Welcome back, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu greeted as the raven-haired girl entered.

“I’m back.” She replied.

“Practice go well?” Yuu asked from the kitchenette area.

“Very much so.” Setsuna affirmed. “Something smells delicious.” She commented as she began to remove her shoes.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” Yuu replied.

“I’m sure it will be good.” Setsuna made her way to her usual spot at the kotatsu.

“This is the first time Yuu-chan has made a meal on her own.” Ayumu pointed out.

“I stand by my statement.”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult.” Ayumu laughed lightly before leaning forward across the table and lowering her voice. “I’m just a little surprised that she took the initiative. Maybe she’s been inspired by your drive in your studies and wants to do more on her own as well?”

“Or she wants to thank you for all the cooking you’ve been doing since we moved in?” Setsuna postulated in return.

“Maybe.” Ayumu admitted “But Yuu-chan should know by now that I enjoy cooking for her. And you as well, Setsuna-chan. I like watching you two eat what I’ve made for you.”

“Then perhaps she wants to experience that as well. We both know how much Yuu-san loves seeing people enjoy the songs she writes. Maybe now she wants the same with cooking.”

“Or maybe all three.”

Setsuna chuckled. “Maybe all three.”

“All three what?” Yuu asked, approaching the table with a serving dish full of food. “Wha’cha talking about?”

“Mm, nothing.” Ayumu hummed. “We were just talking about Yuu-chan.”

“Me? What about me?”

“I’ll tell you later. Maybe.” Ayumu stuck out her tongue.

“Mohh…” Yuu pouted but didn’t press the issue.

For her part, Setsuna enjoyed the rare reversal of roles as Ayumu managed to get some teasing in on Yuu. She admired how comfortable the two were with each other and how they knew just what to say or do to get an adorable reaction out of the other. It was a bit enviable, to say the least. As close as she had become to them over the past couple years, she was nowhere near that level. That hadn’t stopped Yuu from learning how to tease her, however.

Once portions were plated up, Setsuna opened her laptop and began to study. The meal was indeed as good as it had smelled, so Ayumu and Setsuna were sure to point this out, much to Yuu’s delight. Then, the other two continued to chat and hangout while Setsuna studied, before eventually joining her with their own.

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“Are you going to take a bath tonight, Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu asked.

Setsuna looked up from her screen. Had it really gotten that late already? She realized both Ayumu and Yuu had already returned from their own bathes and she hadn’t even noticed their absence.

“Right, uhm, sorry.” Setsuna replied, getting up.

“It’s fine.” Ayumu sounded a bit confused about the apology as she plugged in her hairdryer and knelt behind Yuu. “I’ll dry your hair when you get back.”

Setsuna nodded her agreement and made a hasty trip to her room to gather her bathing supplies and her pajamas. Not only did she want to return to her studies quickly, but it had been a while since Ayumu last worked with her hair and months since she last dried it during a sleepover, so she was anxious for that as well.

Upon her return, Setsuna sat in front of her laptop and found where she had left off.

“You’re going to study while I do this?” Ayumu inquired, taking a position behind her.

“Uhm, I had planned to…” Setsuna admitted. “I’m sorry, I can…”

Ayumu laughed lightly. “It’s fine. I really admire your dedication, Setsuna-chan.”

“I want to prove to my parents that I can be an idol and still earn a degree.”

“I know.” Ayumu patted a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Just be sure not to overdo it, alright?” She said, turning on the dryer and threading her fingers into dark strands of hair.

Setsuna lost her place as her finger clipped the scroll wheel of her mouse. She had almost forgotten how wonderful this felt; the warm air, the gentle strokes…

“You alright, Setsuna-chan?”

“I’m fine, I’m just…” She let out a content sigh and her shoulders slumped as Ayumu made another pass.

Ayumu giggled.

Setsuna felt heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the air from the dryer. She steeled herself and put every effort toward concentrating on the screen.

Once Ayumu finished with Setsuna’s hair, she moved to her usual spot at the table so she could get in a bit of studying as well. Then after about an hour or so, she yawned, closed her book and pushed herself out from under the kotatsu.

“I’m going to turn in.” Ayumu said, making her way to her bed.

“Good night, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna replied.

“Sleep well.” Yuu added.

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“Remember not to stay up too late, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu called out softly.

“Mm…” Setsuna hummed and nodded, seeming to have barely registered the call through her focus.

Déjà vu again.

Well, at least tonight, Ayumu consoled herself with the fact that she had pulled out a futon for Setsuna to use. Granted, it was still folded up in the corner, but the study-o-holic girl should be able to handle moving the table to make room for it.

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Ayumu opened her eyes to the sound her alarm and reached up to the shelf of her headboard to find her phone. As her senses kicked in, she realized something felt off. She was the only one in her bed. Where was Yuu?

For that matter, where was Setsuna? Ayumu could see a still-folded futon in the corner and did not see the familiar sight of Setsuna also waking to the alarm. What happened last night?

All week, Yuu had stayed up to study and keep Setsuna company while Ayumu went to bed as she had the earliest classes. All week, Yuu had slid into Ayumu’s bed when she finally ran out of energy. And all week, despite a futon being available for her to lay out, Setsuna had exhausted herself to the point where she had simply collapsed across the kotatsu.

But now Ayumu was alone and a strange sensation of discomfort began to creep through her.

She sat up, moved to the edge of the bed, swung her leg down and…

“?!”

Ayumu jerked her knees up to barely avoid kicking Yuu in the head. To maintain her balance, she dropped her heels down onto the bedframe, making sure to keep her feet away from the other girl’s face.

Sprawled on her back, Yuu was sound asleep. With her legs under the kotatsu, it looked like she had simply collapsed backward after running herself out of energy.

And there was Setsuna as well, nuzzled into Yuu’s shoulder.

Cute.

By the gods were they cute like that.

But, oh… geez, here comes the jealousy… Ayumu found herself wanting Setsuna to snuggle against her like that. And for that matter, why hadn’t Yuu done so any of the times she had crawled in next to her all week?

Yuu and Setsuna had become quite close as of late. Perhaps that was why Setsuna wanted to sleep next to Yuu? But she and Setsuna had become close too, right?

And why hadn’t Setsuna awakened to the alarm like she had all week? Was she just that comfortable nuzzled into Yuu’s shoulder?

Geez…

Ayumu swallowed down those disquieting feelings and got up. As quietly as possible, she began to gather her things to head to the bathroom and wash up for the day.

“Eh?” a voice sounded from behind her followed but a thump. “Geh…”

Ayumu turned to see Setsuna frantically scrambling out from under the kotatsu before rubbing a hip and wincing.

“Are you alright, Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu asked, noting that several objects on the table had shifted position.

“A-Ayumu-san?” Setsuna was still panicked. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t remember. How did I? What… I’m sorry…”

“Mmhph…” Yuu stirred and slowly opened her eyes. “G’mornin’ Ayumu…” She slurred as her gaze fell on the redhead before offering a sleepy smile.

“Yuu-san, I’m sorry!” Setsuna redirected her apologies.

“Mm?” Yuu’s head lolled to the side. “Oh, hey, Setsuna-chan. Good morning.” Had she not heard the other girl’s apology? “Ow…” Yuu uttered as she banged her hands into the bed while trying to stretch. “Forgot where I fell asleep.” She chuckled at herself before sitting up and stretching properly.

Would she have not hit her hands against the headboard had she done that in bed? Ayumu pondered silently. Maybe she thought she was back in her own room on her couch?

“You two sleep alright?” Ayumu ventured.

“Pretty much.” Yuu confirmed. “Obviously stayed up too late, though… Oops. Probably going to have to take a nap this afternoon after class. But for now, coffee.” She started getting up. “You want some, Setsuna-chan?”

“Eh?” Setsuna startled out of her post panic stupor. “Oh, uhm, yes please.”

“I’ll make some tea for you as well, Ayumu.” Yuu offered with a grin. “I’ll have it ready by the time you get back.”

“Oh, alright.” Ayumu nodded. “Thanks, Yuu-chan.”

With that said, Ayumu headed for the door, wondering if Yuu had noticed anything different about her sleeping arrangement.

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Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

Text

3_ 44 Mending Fractures in Clock Faces

It was one of those days where she didn’t feel capable enough to get every little detail in order, before heading out to tackle a day. The day itself wasn’t especially meaningful, aside from one meeting at the college Though she wouldn’t typically fret over a conventional brief to slog off materials, she had reasons these days to be a little more cautious about approaching individuals outside her close knit circle of friends.

Vivi finished applying some contours and shade to her face, and afforded a little shade of blue tint around her eyes. She and the boys were usually in and out of places in such a whirl, she didn’t go for a full slather of makeup. It was maintenance and she had better things to spend her money on, such as rare and illusive books that the Tome Tomb would pay a good percentage for. On this day however, she wanted to conceal the grayness of long nights and short bouts with sleep; though Uncle Lance knowing her, the rouge would be a dead giveaway she’d been a workaholic lately.

A soft whine and delicate scritch-scritch tumbled through the lower space of her door. “Give me two seconds,” she hailed back. Edged back from the mirror, she made a face by squinting her eyes and tilted her head under the phosphorous light. It would get her through the day, which is all she needed.

The sultry aroma of a warm breakfast assaulted her upon exiting the bathroom. It was warmer in the living room than it was in the freshly steamed shower.

“Ooh, that smells scrumptious.” She stepped aside, while Mystery nudged by and entered the bathroom. He kicked the door shut rather rudely, once she was out. “Sorry.”

“Wow, that’s a record for you,” Lewis croaked. He was in the small kitchen, a dishtowel draped over one shoulder while he worked the stove. With a graceful tilt, he platted the pan-fried toast and eggs onto an awaiting blanket of the napkin. “But Mystery sure appreciated it. He’s a bottomless pit.” He set the plate on the bar and went rummaging around for the silverware. “Though it gave me a chance to practice. Cooking, it’s not so easy when temperatures are all… eugh.”

Vivi examined the breakfast collage set before her. She bought all microwavable stuff, fast and easy for a pinch, but Lewis being Lewis insisted he dedicate to the stovetop method. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble. And… shouldn’t you be good at this, isn’t fire your element or something?” She didn’t mean for it to be so blunt or insensitive. “You’re made of fire, aren’t you?”

“Only my unbridled passion for you, mi corazona azul.” Lewis swept up a tea pot and poured the steaming water into a mug, with a little strainer chain dangling off the side. “It’s the least I could do for crashing at your place. What am I gonna do, watch you work all on your own?” He set the mug beside her plate, along with a fresh bottle of honey purchased the other day.

Vivi bobbed the steeper and began cutting at her breakfast. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve done enough. You could afford some time off, save some energy. Whatever you need. MMm! This is really good.”

“Is that a new hairband?” Vivi frowned. “What? Just asking.” He turned off the burner, and began tidying up the counters. Eggs went back into the fridge with the pre-cooked sausage.

“I wanted to look a little more… put together, when we go in for our review at the college. Regarding that… case.” At the fridge door, a wash of mist engulfed Lewis as he lingered, edging around to peer at Vivi with the corner of a burning fuchsia eye. “It’s a standard brief, but ya remember what I said – the Demonology Department is a little hung up that the case went so ‘smoothly’ as they put it.” She did finger quotes… then licked her fingers of the butter and grease.

Lewis shut the door and turned away, pretending to examine the dirtied dishes on the stove. He gave the back of his head a rub, a very human gesture and completely reflexive.

The bathroom door opened and Mystery emerged, looking fluffy and bright. He strolled over to Vivi and gazed up imploringly, eyes big and beseeching. You gonna finish that?

“We’re gonna go through and give the evidence media another review,” Vivi insisted. “Make certain you didn’t interfere with a photo or vid clip. No offense, but whenever you photobomb you always have this… ominous aura, and that’d contradict our reports about passive spirits.”

“It’s not that,” Lewis chittered. The oven light flashed, causing him to flinch as if this never happened before. “I guess what is bothering me, is if I wasn’t there. To meet the family. What would… I don’t know. What would the college have opted to do?”

Vivi took a bite of egg and looked at Lewis’ eyes. “You need to remember, it wasn’t the call of the department to… how should I say…?”

“Escort?”

“Escort’s good. You did the escorting, I guess.” She set her hands on the bar and straightened up a bit more. “The point is, I didn’t rightfully care about the Hershey’s. They weren’t worth it, we were there for them but they didn’t require us. See? They could’ve gotten anybody, to deal with that family – locked in the memories of their home.” She sighed, looking aside wistfully. “Anybody else could have torn them apart, tormented them. It wasn’t warranted.”

Lewis held his smoldering eyes with her clear blues a moment longer, before giving a rasp and withdrawing. “Yeah. You have a point.” He took the skillet and set it in the sink, BUT first he took a napkin and began wiping it out.

“You’re invited to come along, if you’re curious?” she posed. Honey went into the tea and she gave the mug an experimental sip. “Mmm. Maybe not a flashlight, this time. Or you could do that invisible thing… can you turn invisible?”

“Ah, yeah,” Lewis muttered. “If it’s the same by you, I’d feel fine just sitting this one out. Demonology Department and Paranormal Investigations? Investigation being a keyword here. We wouldn’t want someone seeing shadows, and suspect of all things you were followed or something.” He cracked a grin. “That would be awkward.”

“I always wondered how astute those people are,” Viv admitted, while pressing a bent finger to her chin thoughtfully. “But you’re right, it’d be better not to risk it. I won’t be back for a while though, just so you know. The college isn’t our only stop, Art and I have to dump supplies and get the van in for the exterior overhaul.” She turned the bare plate over and looked down at Mystery.

“All gone. See? Why are you even begging, that’s so unbecoming of someone like you.”

Mystery huffed and stamped a rear foot. I’m a growing boy!

“I won’t be in for a while. That’s the deal.”

Lewis pursed his lips and gazed upward, giving it serious consideration. “I would prefer helping you, and let Arthur have the time to take it easy and catch up with his work.”

Vivi shrugged. “He has to be present for the brief.”

Lewis ran water in the sink and began scrubbing the skillet. “I do kinda need a break from people for a while. Ya feel me? Lo sie— Sorry, that I won’t be able to help with squaring away our stuff. I know that’ll be a massive pain for Artie.” The whole… possession thing was rough on the both of them, though he didn’t want to say that aloud. This was the first chance he was able to put up distance with Arthur, since he rose from his hibernation. There was still a lot of sensations and spite boiling inside him, a lot he didn’t quite have defined words for. The way Arthur was so lost and out of his mind with utter desperation shook something to Lewis’ core, while at the same time; it rekindled those old memories which sustained him during his existence before the surviving trio stumbled upon the catacombs of his resting place. A place he wanted buried away and secluded from the world, for all the damage it had done.

“Lew? You okay?”

He jarred and gave Vivi a look, then, followed her gaze to his arms… the water in the sink bubbling and scorched. Vivi was leaning back, clearly uncomfortable with this turn. Lewis pulled backwards, careful not to slosh the scalding water. He patted at the dish towel hung over his shoulder and focused on snuffing out the heat.

“That must be some water heater,” he sputtered.

“Are you really… okay?”

“Yes, really.” He offered a wide grin. The crisis averted, he ran some cold water in the skillet pool. “Well that suckers sterilized.”

“Can you be honest with me?” When Lewis raised his gaze, she went on, “Is it… Arthur?”

“No. Not at all. Okay-okay, the truth is I need a break from him. But it’s nothing personal, I get the feeling it’s mutual.”

Vivi squinted one eye, but the topic she didn’t pursue on. “I feel better that you told me, so, I’ll keep that in mind. Whatever you two need.” She downed the rest of her tea and handed mug with plate, over to Lewis. “We need to get a move on. I don’t want us rushing Arthur, if he’s had another rough night.”

Mystery yapped.

Slipped off the bar stool and moved around the room. Collecting the few bags and notebooks left strewn about – off the couch and end-tables – she jammed everything into a backpack. “Do you want Mystery and I to check in, after we get the meeting out of the way? That’ll be three hours, give or take.”

“I’ll be in fair shape,” Lewis assured. “Unless you need a break from Artie, too. Don’t worry about me… unless, you don’t wan me haunting your place?” Vivi laughed.

The last of the folders and the laptop went into the backpack, and she secured the zipper. “That’s tots cool, just don’t set off the fire alarm, or scorch the carpet. Uncle Lance won’t let go the tragedy of the vans ceiling. When did that even happen?”

Lewis shrugged. “Estoy tan perplejo.” Vivi passed into the kitchen and took Lewis by his faux ascot, pulling him down enough to give him a peck on the cheek. A little fluff of ember flashed from his hair but dispersed on the air, harmlessly. She bid him a final goodbye, and called Mystery to hurry along as she ducked out the entry. “Ella hace eso a propósito, pero me gusta.”

The door shut and like that, he suddenly felt very alone. The small apartment quiet; the heater wheezed gently throughout the unit, electricity whistled in the walls with its somber hymn. Somewhere out there, people would be getting along with their lives, normal as can be. Mundane routines, venturing here or there on private quests to fulfill minor roles of the day before the sun set, some even extending activities into the night when the world turned serene and quiet.

By a cruel swipe of fate, Lewis was expelled from that. He had no place to be specifically, no one was expecting him to arrive, he was not due somewhere or needed to be in a particular space of time. Aside from Vivi’s apartment, which was not an extensive or an endless mansion; or, Kingsman Mechanics where there was areas to move through or depart from.

Some minor files and notebooks remained on the couch, for Vivi’s personal archives – most of it handwritten messy notes, sometimes amusing or unflattering doodles decorated the pages. He gathered these into neat stacks and set them beside the lamp on the end table. It was much too quiet, prompting Lewis to drift over by the radio player and set his hand on the front panel. With a spark and nudge of his persuasive heat, the player chattered to life. The digital dial tallied through the various stations, voices and electrical instruments bombarded through the speakers, volume rising and then dipping as he set the device to a familiar old favorite. Passive tunes played through, affording some atmospheric warmth to the space where he was set to dwell.

It grieved him to admit that he didn’t want to be around Arthur – let alone anyone, for a time. Why was that? It was difficult to convey. Before, he was never like this; that he was certain of, or he wasn’t Lewis Pepper. Outgoing, confident in his own right, yet now, he needed solitude. Sometimes in Vivi’s passionate forwardness he forgot these things, forgot how much he missed the silence, the isolation. When did it begin, he wondered? Where was the break in the timeline – certainly not when he awoke. The heat that burned through him was vivid and unforgettable. The betrayal, not only of what… occurred, but what followed. Left behind and forgotten, for so-so long. Endless halls, doors one after the other, candlelight to comfort his wanderings. Seeking but internally lost, bound to that place by sensations and emotions he couldn’t shed. Nothing to ponder through, aside from the echoes of recollection and what ultimately led to his current state.

And the ever-present thrumming of his locket, aligned to a silent beat he no longer possessed. That was loneliest of all. The conviction and irrefutability of his reality. Lewis Pepper no longer was. It had all ended, and the world left him behind.

The dust atop the radio player was disturbed, but only slightly, when Lewis drew back his hand. He chided himself, but Vivi was very busy and when she was home… well, she only barely returned home. It would help him maintain focus and pass the time, if he did something productive. Where was the cleaning supplies? Did Vivi have cleaning supplies, at all?

One of the cabinets in the kitchen had suitable gear and cleanser substance, which allowed Lewis to at least get the hard surfaces in order. The kitchen itself didn’t have a great well of culinary space, and most the stuff Vivi bought was either fast meals or condiments, and one cabinet dedicated to teas and coffees. He didn’t have a specific cleaner for the cabinets, but some dish soap and a good rag would suffice to remove sticky substance or whatever else was left on the panels. She didn’t even line her cabinets, Vivi, what the heck? His parents would lose it if they saw the state of her stove; not that it was filthy (see Vivi-s preferences for meal planning), but it could use some attention.

Having worked in a restaurant for his life, it was no issue getting the space freshened up ceiling to floor. The one thing Vivi did have was a mop, in the bathrooms towel closet. He suspected that was more for random spills than the actual task of cleaning, but he scrubbed the small patch of hard floor and called the apartment a better living space.

Lewis put on his sunglasses before checking out the window, facing the small thicket below. He wasn’t worried anybody might see him at this height, but the sun would forever and always irritate him. The hour was still early, though he couldn’t recall what else Vivi needed to toil with before she should call the day well and worn past usefulness.

On the shelf above and below the radio player, there lined up numerous volumes on the spiritual and legends. Some of the books appeared aged and frayed on the spines, while others didn’t look older than a year; with glossy covers or crisp pages. He took one of the elder books, a text about ‘ghosts’, spirits, and phantoms. The book was not very detailed, but included photographs from the 1900s all the way to the more modern era, showcasing dreaded orbs and shadow people. He put the book back.

The next book, he decided to go through an older volume and try to decipher the nonsense. He eased back as if reclining on a chair of air, with his heel braced on the floor. There was included inspiring observations about residual haunts, and speculation that spirits are a substance of none substance, capable of easing through solid and immovable surfaces. Yadda-yadda, however, he did have issues when complicated obstructions such as cabinets or interior wiring was involved. He flipped through the book, further exploring insightful passages, such as manipulation of electrical devices or digital media. Boring. Did any of these books have any insight on how to be less spirit?

After returning that riveting intuition of publication manifesto, Lewis went next to a book of meditation. There were a few volumes along the same genre, and it made sense that Vivi would have them in her collection. She had a thing for channeling good energies, or chacra, or whatever; an important asset, he had come to learn. He hefted the book up and gave the front and back cover a quick inspection, before settling up into a float. The whole mind over matter deal might be more insightful than books of shadows, perplexities, and speculations.

The Mystery Van thundered as its engines heaved it up into the parking zone, for arriving vehicles of the Kingsman Mechanics. Typical of his ways, Arthur wasn’t even up when Vivi arrived, but she had anticipated this and thus showed up early in order for Arthur to get his bearings in order. After speaking with Uncle Lance, Vivi propped open the back doors and sifted through the packets of files and folders. At this point it was organization, pulling credible and intriguing information to the forefront while leaving lesser interesting portions to the bottom of the barrel – sort to speak.

Once more, Vivi thanked Arthur for lending her the van. She knew home much the vehicle meant to him.

Arthur checked through the backdoors, as he hauled up with an additional duffle of spare equipment rented by the university. Vivi noted he had opted out of his arm, though it didn’t seem to slow him down. “It’s us today,” she offered, with meaning. “Just us.”

Mystery padded around on the seat beside her and pushed his face against her shoulder. She gave him a soothing scratch beneath the dog chin, which compelled an appreciative whine from the pseudo canine.

“A self-care day,” she added, as Arthur slung the backdoors shut. “Go on, Mystery. No more scratchies ‘til later.”

“Self-care day,” Arthur repeated. He wound up on the passenger side, but upon seeing Vivi’s new placement, he sighed and made the long trip across the front of the van to the driver side door. He situated himself in the seat an pulled the belt across his chest. “Okay. Are you… sure?” A quick fix of the side mirror, and he turned the ignition switch. “Or are you saying that to make me feel better?”

“Lying to you wouldn’t make you feel better.” Vivi rebuked. While she relocated further into the passenger seat, Mystery plodded over her lap.

“Mystery!”

Arf!

“Mystery wouldn’t lie to you, would he?” she smiled.

Arthur had to stop the van at the exit chute, and get the dog under control. This ended, by him wrapping one arm around Mystery and hugging him tightly to his side. “Now, no more. We’ll cuddle war later.” Vivi assisted by snatched Mystery away, and hauling the withering pupper to her side. “I finished formatting the files. Are you wearing makeup?”

“Are you implying something?” she glared Arthur’s way.

“No! Not at all!” Arthur put the van into drive and eased forward.

Once they arrived at the city where the college was stationed, Vivi insisted they hit up a drive thru and grab breakfast, since she was ‘in such a hurry, and left without a goodbye.’ Those were her exact words. Arthur ordered some breakfast burgers and a tea. However, Vivi pulled an uno reverse card when they reached the campus, and insisted Arthur eat one with her and Mystery. Playing traitor was Mystery, sitting entirely too clos to Arthur while he worked to transfer files and simultaneously nibble on the burger, all with one arm between them. Mystery’s pleading whines sounded so mournful, it was near impossible to drop his eyes from the hound to do anything productive. Unless it was put a sandwich in his mouth. Then, Mystery would go quiet, his expression would change to an air of optimism, and he’d lick his lips. Or, shove his cold muzzle under Arthur’s chin.

Arthur hissed, “This is why you can’t hang at my place.”

Meanwhile, Vivi was doing a second browse of the files Arthur worked on, just in case. “Though that is under debate, if you don’t take better care of yourself.”

“Uncle Lance is keeping tabs on me.” He jammed the burger in his mouth and held it there, while he did some swift type up on the laptop. “All you people! I have a very slow metabolism.” Mystery licked his chin. “No one’s impressed with you.”

“I think you ignore your metabolism.” Vivi packed up the laptops, and reorganized the files for submission. Everything went into a large satchel made of canvas, with a two large buckles.

“No, but let’s get a move on anyway.” He shut down the laptop and disconnected the external hard drive. “Get this out of the way, so we can move on to more important things.”

“I hear ya.” They locked up the van and gave the doors one last go over, insuring everything was secure and that the beaten vehicle offered no enticing lures for the would be prospective vandal. It was a time like this, Vivi would have appreciated a certain spirit to keep watch other their things. Computers and other essential equipment was damn expensive.

The meetings were not too terrible, but they were mandatory and time consuming on some cases, especially with a group that had gone to such lengths to ascertain that none of the content was ‘out of place’, as Vivi referred to it. Paranormal Investigations, Forensics, and the Demonology Department were all located in the same section of building, in a structure that better resembled a sanitarium than an education department. It was in among the sparkling new or freshly refurbished halls of Business and Financing, and arguably out of place, though mysteries and criminal activity went hand-in-hand with such divisions. Through their work of investigating mystery cases and unexplained events, their correlation was aptly relevant among these industry’s trends.

In a certain crescent shaped room, a desk sat with stacks of files atop, alongside USBs, and an external hard drive. Among these items an Ouija Board lay, wrapped in a loose, clear plastic bag. In two chairs across from the table, Vivi and Arthur sat, as they directed their attention to the desk wherein a figure was typing into a desktop computer.

“A few more seconds. I appreciate your patience, as with your punctuality.”

“It’s no problem,” Vivi replied. She gave Mystery’s shoulder a rub; the dog left his head resting on her lap. “The assignment was very cut and dry. Mrs… Her, er, Hirstein, was very theatrical of the paranormal activities.”

The tapping stopped momentarily, and the figure moved out from behind the computer to browse the collected files on the desk. “I see…” she hummed. She took a tab of stickers, wrote on one of the pieces then pealed it off. “Will you elaborate on these theatrics, as you have transcribed it?” She returned to the desk and resumed typing, but at a bided pace.

Vivi shared a look with Arthur, and gave a nod. He began, “It was all completely blown out of proportion.” Arthur winced, when the typing accelerated, “The spooks we encountered were not hostile at all. A lil creepy, but not malicious. Not like some of our other cases where things, uh… kinda get out of hand. Y’know, with people terrorized, families harassed, angry, hostile, peeved ghosts….” He shuddered.

“They were displaced souls,” Vivi took over, “who didn’t realize time had moved on without them. Like residual, but sentient within a projected facsimile that included bystanders.”

The Department Head looked to Vivi. “From your tone, I anticipate you had some sort of experience?”

Hesitantly, Vivi nodded. “There’s an included recount… in the files. Arthur and I both had experiences, of some form.” Arthur shifted in his seat and looked aside. “There was no repeat or predicted frequency, is was a… temporal interjection, or hallucination projected.”

“Hallucination?” Arthur snapped.

“Hallucinations are not all bad, or indicate something is wrong with your head,” Vivi declared. “It’s merely a case of some event or visual portrayed through subliminal suggestion, and is sometimes the cause by, or enhanced, by outer extremities.” Then, she returned her attention to the Department Head:

“On that note, we performed extensive studies of the homes internal applications. The wiring checked out, appropriately insulated as per code standards.”

“And actually— Oh!” Arthur glanced from Department Head, and back to Vivi. “Should I say?”

“Go for it.”

Arthur indicated the files, “The wiring and furnaces on the first and second story received a complete overhaul, given the incident that… resulted in the ghosts, being unaware that they had passed. Spirits, I meant to say spirits.”

The Department Head took up one of the files, and flipped through the printed pages. “And there is paperwork, as evidence and relevance to the claims?”

Arthur leaned a little forward from the chairs back. “There’s no available paperwork, but I did snap pictures of the installation serial along with dates listed on the machines. That’s standard procedure for installations.”

The Department Head set aside the folder, then, reached for one of the USBs. “My only concern is that this assignment did not reach it’s expected timeframe – in fact, an extension was expected.”

“Is that somehow a problem?” Vivi inquired. “It wasn’t as difficult as Mrs…Hirstein insisted, and we were able to guide the spirits to their final path.” She pulled her hands off the needy Mystery, and gestured the table. “I have no reason to believe they will have further issues with lost spirits, if the children stay away from obscene board games.”

The Headmaster set aside the folder, and took up the Ouija Board. “It only becomes a problem, with clients such as the Hirstein’s. One client with false expectations isn’t the issue, but mishandling one or more clients can have negative impact on our future studies into the paranormal and occult. Studies go nowhere without funding.”

Vivi tilted her head sideways. “We understand. On the topic of professional relations, I did not appreciate the Hirstein’s treatment of my team, or their attitude to the situation. But our interactions with them remained civil, and we conducted ourselves with the utmost respect.”

Ruff.

The Department Head flipped the Ouija Board over. “The Hirstein’s?”

“Evidence.”

She set the board aside and clasped her hands together. “My department will keep your history with the Hirstein’s in consideration, for our eventual follow-ups. Is there anything else either of you wish to add regarding this assignment?”

“No… not really,” Arthur admitted. Mystery boofed.

Vivi stood from her seat, first glancing to Arthur. “I wanted to take the time to recap, that my team runs strict investigations. We’ll bring evidence, media, give our play-by-play reports, document eyewitness claims, but that is what we signed up for.”

Arthur reached up to his vest collar and tugged at the plush material. Mystery inched his way over and set a paw upon Arthur’s knee, and whined at him.

“Of course,” the Department Head acknowledged. “Your group is persistent and invested in the depths of lore, which you explore with grand vigor. I assure you, there will be no changes unless you first submit a request. On that note,” she looked to Arthur, “I spoke with Uber Jiver, with Engineering and Technology, and there is expressed interest in your participation with some of the advanced programs. Would you find it beneficial to your primary work? It could aid in new techniques, and perfecting a better model.”

Arthur grimaced. “That’s really swell, but the whole… building a better arm gig is something I kind of practice in my…personal time.” He reached down and gave Mystery the scratch he deserved. “And I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

The Department Head clapped her hands together. “That’s quite well. Once again, thank you both for your quality of work. We’ll be in touch.”

That concluded the entire meeting, for the day at least. Mystery’s claws tapped on the polished tile floor as he trotted between Vivi and Arthur, making the long march through the open halls. A few students stood out or about, passing on their way. The trio trekked out the large, glassed doors to the exterior sidewalk, interwoven among the division of academia. Arthur let loose the most dramatic sigh:

“Damn longest fifteen minutes of my life.”

“I think it was more like thirty,” Vivi mentioned. “Mystery, don’t run through the bushes! I just brushed you!”

“I lost an extra fifteen?” He capped a hand over his eyes and groaned. “Do you ever get this impression, y’know, the sort where she doesn’t believe? In what we’re saying. She’s head of Demonology and forensics, but she’s got some harsh skepticism game.”

Vivi held up a finger. “First rule of paranormal investigations, debunk or err on fantastical claims. Trust no one, until the relevant evidence is presented fully and truthfully.”

Arthur raised his palm off his springy hair. “That’s a mouthful, even for a fortune cookie.” Mystery padded over and ran around both Vivi and Arthur twice, before siding up alongside Vivi. “I know that. You know that, Mystery sure as hecken knows that.” Mystery yapped. “But I get this vibe she doesn’t particularly like us, like, it’s personal. You get me? I’m not alone in this, right?”

Woof!

“We go in her office, and it’s sort of special – ‘Ah, there you three are. Trying to sell me ‘ghosts’ in designer sheets again, I see.’” He bent his arm and put a fist to his hip and tilted sideways, “Pictures of shadows in places where shadows shouldn’t be? Tsk-tsk, that’s not how the school documents.”

“People always wanna make a buck off the rare and unusual. Haven’t we learned that?” She reached down and gave Mystery a pat. “It went a lot better than I expected. I guess the Hershey’s were satisfied with all the shenanigans, though I never once doubted Lew.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. Zilch doubts.”

Arthur kicked at some leaves along the sidewalk. “I give a dang, in only that they don’t seem to give a flunk. All bark, less ‘cAn I SPeAk toO yOUur maNaGER?’ I hate dealing with clients like that. Worse than the culty fanatics, and their sinister dark gods of cheese sauce, children of the corn, or whatever.”

“The most absolute worst.” Vivi adjusted her glasses and peered up into the overcast sky. “But even if there are problems, it doesn’t reflect poorly on our performance. And, we’re not gonna take their case again, even if it doesn’t close. We washed our hands of that, no worries. Chill.”

Arthur jammed his hand in a pocket. “Until the next clan of Hershey’s,” he sighed. It would be inevitable. “It’s only ‘cause we can’t get rough with assigned clients. OoOOhh, the school wouldn’t approve of our curbside services.”

Bark!

“What?” Vivi snapped. “We represent the prime cut of paranormal investigators.”

Mystery sighed and rolled his eyes.

The next order of business was clear the van of all supplies and work essentials, not only the electronics. Gear such as essentials for documenting paranormal activity, would go to Arthur’s shop for quality assessment. Everything else went to a small storage shed, rented not far off from the college zone. It was better described as a large atmosphere-controlled closet, for outdated files, along with other non-essential equipment; camping gear, and larger artifacts that wouldn’t fit at an apartment – and were kinda creepy or maybe a little cursed.

It took some time to walk all the supplies from the parking lane into the inner building, a task made more time consuming due to the process of sifting through which would go into the shed and what would be left temporarily at The Shop. It wasn’t an issue of hauling every last and overflowing box to the shed, but cataloging what was going into the shed. There was a trolley available for customer use, avoiding the issue of heavy lifting, and Arthur made good time with Mystery’s help. A good bulk of files and obsolete tools went to the shed, and one blue bike was hauled out. For Vivi’s use.

From there, it was a return trip to Kingsman Mechanics to drop off what remained of the equipment, plus whatever else didn’t get shipped out at the shed. It was Arthur’s continued role, to navigate the van through the wrap around of the carport. While Vivi was in the back hauling out equipment such as sage and spices from cuvees, and organizing the tech among rolls of spare blankets that hadn’t been moved out yet. The van easing to a stop spurred Vivi to pause in her work and check the front of the van. The interior alit considerably under the pressing glow of the central lights within the garage.

“There? Already?”

Arthur hummed, as he put the vehicle in park. The pop of a walkie-talkie snapped off, “Uncle Lance? Yo?” He slung around in the seat and tumbled into the back of the van, the whole affair made awkward by the fact he didn’t have a second arm.

The scratchy reply came back through, “Yer?”

“Vi and I are here. We’re dropping off some shit, and getting’ the spare truck.” He released the toggle. A few seconds later, the garbled reply came:

“Say over.”

Arthur sighed, “Over.” He scrambled on to the back doors and cracked them open. “I’m gonna borrow a flat cart and salvage boxes from parts, and park this stuff out of the way. We’re kinda in a hurry.” He paused outside the van, surveying the garage. “Over.”

“I read yu,” the reply crackled. “Lemme know if y’need anything. Over.”

“Thank yew, over.” Arthur darted off, out of sight and view for a short period of time. When he reappeared, it was hauling two large boxes one handed. He deposited them on the back, and Vivi began packing them with the equipment divided up.

“How many you reckon?”

“Hmm,” Vivi folded back and fitted her chin on her palm. “Seven, at most. Some of them I can’t fill all the way, though there won’t be shortage of space.” She grabbed Mystery by the collar, before the dog could attempt vaulting over the displaced equipment. “Hang tight for a few, would’ja? You’re gunna jar the merch.”

With a very doggish grumble, Mystery tumbled to his side and lay there dramatically.

Five more trips, and Arthur had supplied eight boxes for Vivi to work with. The rattle and grind of wheels bulldozed to the bumper. Arthur sided up to the back and used his hip to brace one box and gripped it around the side with his one arm, carefully, he crouched down to set the first box on the flat cart. This method was repeated for the five boxes, and once they had been set securely on the flat cart, Arthur used his foot to keep it steady while lining them up. While Vivi finished finalized the last box, he scooted up into the back space.

“Could I trouble you to nab some coffee, and see if anyone dropped off snacks in the lounge?” he posed, innocently. “And I’ll grab the keys for the backup truck.”

For the most part, Vivi was stunned. “Um, sure, I can do that. I gotta give the van another sweep before shutting the last box.”

Arthur motioned with his hand. During this, Mystery insisted on hopping up into and out of the van, impatience in his eyes. “I’ll go through the cuvees. Ooh, and don’t forget the books in the floor compartments, too.”

Vivi’s eyes lit up. “Shit! I completely, almost did!” She pushed the partially packed box aside, and fumbled for the seamless latch in the panel. “I doubt they’d go missing, but it’d peeve me off if I remembered I didn’t put them up someplace safe.”

Arthur patted a space on the flat cart with his foot. This enticed Mystery from leaping off the bumper, onto the flat cart. “We’re gonna catch up with Gala, and I’ll take a few of these up to the room.” He swung away and snagged the handle, bracing to angle the stubborn cart. But Vivi called out:

“You’ve been going overboard with the work, Mister.” She climbed from the vans back and straightened her skirt. “We’re not in a hurry, we just hafta park the van. Sit down for a bit, and I’ll go nab those refreshments.”

Arthur pouted. “And Galahad?”

Vivi sighed. “One thing at a time.” As she strolled by Arthur, she spun around and aimed an accusing finger. “And you’d better be here when I get back, or at the very least, not fighting those boxes up those stairs. Mystery, stay here and don’t let him get up to no good.”

The ears perked on the little dog, and his bob tail waggled.

It didn’t really mystify Vivi a whole lot, about Arthur’s eagerness to get the work done. At least work that didn’t involve specters or weird creatures, or whatever kooky stuff. He could focus and barrel onward with minimal resistance, equipment and engines could only have so many defects, and so many solutions. Such is the same of mathematical equations demanding straight answers, to unchanging numerals following unyielding laws.

Leaving the van at the body shop wouldn’t hasten repairs, but she figured Arthur was done with staring at the unsightly scar in its side. And maybe, he wanted some time to himself to work on his arm.

Someone brought in fresh muffins and cupcakes, likely from a local bakery. She went through the boxes, scavenging for something Arthur might like that was super sweet and bad for him. The coffee available in the pumps was stale and cold, so Vivi took it upon herself to fix up a smaller pot to brew some fresh. While the coffee brewed fresh and hot, she tucked two cupcakes in the microwave and just gave them a few seconds to warm up – not enough to melt the icing but to soften them. A trick she learned from Lewis. For a ghost, he knew a lot about making the best of boring foods.

It was hard to get Lewis to talk about things like that. She remembered, the people she met back when Arthur was in the hospital. The confusion and wrongness felt, when they tried to connect with her. They knew her from somewhere, and if she was honest with herself, she knew who they were – like, knew them from somewhere, an acquittance, but that was it. That was about it. The history she had, before the accident, she didn’t fully grasp. The whole event frightened her, because she recognized something critical was missing. Something from her, between them, which connected them all together. Arthur knew, but he was too crushed to admit anything other than regret.

What really stuck with her, was how much she cried. She didn’t understand why it hurt so much to stand before those people, and insisted she didn’t know anything. They asked questions, so many questions, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

She snapped back when the buzzer went off on the microwave. Fuck, the icing was all runny. She tossed the cupcakes and tried again, this time setting the timer to five second increments.

Armed with a spare cup of sugar, one coffee, and three gently warmed muffins, she returned to the back closest of the garage for shipments. Arthur was nowhere in sight, but Mystery was still upon the flat cart awaiting patiently with his chin between his paws. Vivi inched up and set one muffin on his paw, and Mystery began nibbling at it politely.

“Where’s Artie?” she pondered aloud. Someone was in the van, fumbling around. “Art?” Something within thumped or whumped.

“Oh, you’re back! That was fast.” Arthur emerged at the back doors, rubbing his ribs under his left side. “S’that fresh coffee?” The communicator in his vest pocket began gargling about something undercarriage, up until Arthur reached in and flipped the volume down.

Vivi cast a careful eye over to the flat cart, unmoved. Then, looked past Arthur into the van, and saw the boxes undisturbed. She handed the muffins over when Arthur leaned over. “How much sugar you want in your coffee?”

He sat on the bumper and began digging into the first muffin. “Just pour the whole thing in.”

Vivi bit on her lip. “You sure? There’s half a cup here, and it’s… two cups of coffee or less. You were really hungry. Everything all right?”

“Famished,” Arthur gasped. “Maybe half then?” He glanced back into the van, then looked to Vivi. “It’s looks supe- hot.”

The sugar was cool and by the power of science, would lower the heat in the coffee. Not by a lot, but maybe enough he could sip it. Vivi dumped a portion of the sugar into the little cup and gave it a stir. “Did you manage to scrounge up the rest of our gear?”

“Mmm, no. Yes. I got distracted.” He set the coffee aside, and lifted up the disposable plate. “Look, no food. I ate it. Happy?”

Mystery nodded.

“I’ll finish going through, then.” Vivi climbed in past Arthur, and went to the slots nearest the back doors. “You’ll still need to give it a last pass, just to make sure.”

“Right.” Arthur appeared stiff, or put off by something. “I’ll… wait ‘til you’re finished, so we don’t overlap.”

She stopped and glanced his way. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Arthur slipped off the bumper. “I’ll check the front, and maybe clean up a bit.” A few moments following Arthur’s voice fading out, the driver side door opened. Noises of fumbling and supplies shifting, items – obviously rubbish – scattered, or rebounded through the space beneath the bench seat.

After some time, when Vivi was finalizing her scrutiny of the cuvees and organizing a few last mediocre bits of supplies – such as spare sage or graphite packets – Arthur vanished from the front seats. Vivi doubted he did any cleaning.

Shortly after, the harsh grind of a flat cart wheezed its way to the back doors.

“I just need that last box,” Vivi mentioned. “There are a few odds and ends, but I checked everything just to be sure.”

“Yeah,” Arthur mumbled. He stepped back beside the right-side door and looked at the boxes. “You wanna take these up to the workstation? I need to put the other two boxes on here – they have cameras too.” He dug around in his pocket, until he produced the key ring.

“Is something up?” Vivi took the key as she plopped out. “Just let me know, and I’ll help. What it is.”

Arthur blinked and raised his brows high. “No, nothing’s up. I didn’t sleep well last night, and it’s kinda catching up.” He leaned around and took up the coffee, for a sip. “It’s gonna be a bummer, bein’ van-less for a few weeks.”

“Yeah.” Vivi positioned herself behind the flat cart and began swinging the rear wheels, lining them up with the large doorway adjacent to them. “But at least the van can get repaired. And, it’ll be sort of like new. There’s a bright side to this.”

Arthur groaned, and took another sip of his coffee. It was almost completely gone. “It could have been worse. I’ll give it that much, but no more.” He tossed the cup onto the plate and climbed back into the van. “Not like this’ll be the last time something….” Vivi didn’t hear what else; something about roasting or toast. Arthur probably wasn’t wrong.

“Wanna ride, Mystery?”

The flat cart could maneuver all through the receptionist’s area, and back into the employee area behind the wall that shielded off the stairs. Mystery lightly drifted off the cart, then galloped up the steps to the upper work area. Hauling boxes up wasn’t a grand ol’trial, foremost they were not heavy, and second they were not large. The containers served to separate the equipment, and one of the boxes Vivi transported to the room was full of parts for Arthur’s arm. She didn’t leave that at the work room, and opted to cart it to the private quarters where Arthur worked on designs and unique projects.

Mystery was keeping constant company, and nearly underfoot at every turn in the narrow corridor. Vivi went ahead and opened Arthur’s room, just to make sure she put his essentials where they needed to be before they got misplaced. She paused beside his work desk and looked over the different schematics and sketchy designs, shapes and cogs in uniform colors. There was no sign of Arthur’s current arm, though he might’ve placed it somewhere safe. Unless there was an evident issue, or he seemed to be in visible pain, she wouldn’t ask. He might even provide an easy excuse, or might’ve provided an earnest but dismissive reply. Regardless, it wasn’t her business, not until it began to gnaw on Arthur, then and only then would she make it her business.

Upon returning to the shipments, she found Arthur going through the cuvees. However, it was apparent he was distracted and unfocused with the monotonous task. He didn’t react as she stood there, watching him for five full minutes. Beside her, Mystery leaned forcibly into her knee and raised his doggish eyebrows.

“I know something’s up, ‘cause you ate food without me bitching.”

Arthur yelped and crashed sideways with a hollowed Thunk!

#mystery skulls #msa #mystery skulls fanfiction #the-headbop-wraith #msa fanfiction #mystery skulls ghost #msa lewis #msa arthur #msa mystery #msa vivi #fanfiction #mystery skulls fanfic

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treatian · 4 years

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 181: Snow White’s Unexpected Deception

The note he'd written to himself when he'd taken his memories away told him that Snow White and Prince Charming had met and would need watching. He'd trusted those words because they were in his own hand, never once had he ever questioned it or even tried to look in on how it had happened lest he see something he didn't want himself to see. But now that he'd given Snow White her potion, at the behest of the Seer, he found that the "watching" was imperative. And he'd never felt more alone.

In his tower day and night watching, waiting for something to happen, it wasn't just that Belle was no longer around or even alive, it was more than the fact that Regina was distracted by the Blind Witch, it was also this task. Watching, watching, watching…after a century of moving at a snail's pace, suddenly things were happening at a whirlwind. With Snow and with David, sometimes together but mostly apart, this was the time that he might have used Pirithous to help him investigate and watch, to listen to what was happening. But after how curious he'd been during the exchange with David and James he couldn't trust the boy anymore. So he was alone, watching on his own, using mirrors when he could, but mostly watching the soundless exchanges through his ball and cauldron.

Snow didn't take the potion he'd given her, he liked that. It wasn't until after they'd parted that the full danger of the potion he'd given her had slammed into him. He felt uneasy at the realization that if something went wrong, she could lose her memories of David forever and then Baelfire would be gone forever too. But she didn't take the potion. At least not right away and he felt some relief at that. He was beginning to think that perhaps she was never going to take it, maybe she just needed to learn how extreme her measures had to be to give her the push she needed. Maybe she needed to have the opportunity to lose her memories of David to realize just how precious he was to her.

He was happy when he saw her approach King George's Castle, happy that she might actually be doing something to get closer to the Prince when she was, unexpectedly, captured by King George's Army. He was sure to watch the mirrors, to keep his eye on Regina, fearing, of course, that she would be summoned for the girl. Perhaps he'd barter to get back their former trade deal? But no. Regina remained unaware that Snow was there, and George didn't seem to show any interest as he tossed her into a cell. She spent most of her time talking to…a dwarf?

Yes. The Seer provided the story for him, images…that very dwarf hatching from his egg and being handed his axe…his name was Dreamy but…but it wasn't. He watched a brief encounter play out, a woman, a fairy trapped in a machine that he stopped, him talking to that fairy, talking to someone in a pub, meeting that fairy on a hill and tears streaming down his face as he sent her away. A destroyed axe and a new name,…Grumpy. "I'm Grumpy now…" An image of pennies pinched, wages hoarded, and then a diamond. Beautiful, flawless, so clear he could see the dwarf's reflection in it. A man in a dark cloak sold it to him in a dark alley, and he could tell just from the scene it wasn't a smart deal to make. There was something wrong with it. But the dwarf took it home. "For Nova..." he explained to a brother. "I made a mistake, with this, I hope she'll forgive me, and we can be together." And then an ambush. King George's men seizing the dwarf, taking the diamond in their own hands and examining it. He heard phrases like "Property of the crown", "it's stolen goods", and "take the dwarf prisoner" in his head as he watched soldiers throw the dwarf first into a cell on wheels and then into the one beside Snow White. He'd been there ever since.

Grumpy…what an interesting life he led for a dwarf. What an interesting role he was to play. For out of the shadow's eventually another dwarf arrived, one of his brothers, and judging by the lack of vision he had from him, he'd wager he'd had a fairly unexciting life. The dwarf freed Grumpy, and after a moment of hesitation, Grumpy turned and freed Snow White.

The trio attempted to get free of the castle. There was an argument of some kind. Then, as they were crossing the courtyard, the other dwarf was caught by the guards and died. Apparently his unexciting life was also doomed to be a short life.

Grumpy flung himself out of his hiding space, intending to go and help his fallen brother despite the fact that it was too late, but he was caught as well. And then, right on cue, Snow White revealed herself, sacrificed her own freedom for the dwarf's, earning herself a meeting with King George.

He would have expected it in the jail, or back in her cell or somewhere else, anywhere else other than inside the castle proper. He led her silently through halls and chambers and rooms that neith of them knew finally coming to rest in a hallway with a door behind them. That was where he turned. That was where words were exchanged. He moved to his mirror to get a good sight, but by the time he cast the enchantment to hear, the encounter was over. Snow was already going into the room, and he was about to tap into a different room to listen.

She wore a smile on her face when she first saw him, but it quickly faded as she closed the door and alerted the False Prince to her presence. For the longest time, there was nothing but staring. Staring and walking. She came closer, he stared. She stared at him. He stared back in utter disbelief.

"James…" she finally whispered, her voice husky as if she was holding back tears.

"Snow…"

"I got your letter."

"You came. You came!" And then he rushed at her. In a movement too quick for her to prepare, he strode forward, swept her up off her feet and into his arms. He twirled her around and though she seemed uncomfortable, upset, and panicked at first, it faded. As he held her, he watched her sink into him, her head bending into the contours of his shoulder, holding tight until he set her back down. "You came. You came."

And then the mood changed. David leaned in to kiss her, and he knew even before it happened that she was going to stop him. It wasn't a vision. It was just her body language.

"Wait, James. Us? It can't happen."

"Wh-what's wrong?" David stuttered in disbelief. "Of course, it can. You're here. We can go. We can be together. We can leave all this." He reached out, took her hands in his own in a grip that he could see just as sure as he knew they could feel it. "I know there are costs, but I've planned for everything. They can't hurt us. And now that I know that you love me too-"

"I don't."

David looked shocked, reeling back as though he'd been slapped. He couldn't blame him. She wanted him to kiss her, he could see that plain as day. But why wasn't she letting him? They were so close! True Love right in front of them! Fools! If he had a chance to do it all over again, he'd be in that Great Room by Belle's side again in a heartbeat! So what was stopping Snow? Why was she refusing him when she didn't have to?

"What?"

"Love you. I don't. I'm sorry," she stated with genuine sympathy. "You said I would always be in your heart and…that is too cruel a fate. Go live your life. Live it without me, because there is no place for us together. And fill your heart with love for someone else. Someone who can love you the way I never have – the way I never will."

She held something out to him then, something that he took rather ungracefully from her palm, a piece of paper that he crumpled up. He was crying, he realized, as she stepped around him and walked carefully out of the room. And she was crying too. Or at least she would be. He could see it in her face, hear it in the mirror that she was careful not to make a sound as she left. Only once the door was closed, and he was forced to look inside his ball, did he see her cover her mouth with her hand and weep. King George was there, but she didn't run from him. He said something to her, something he couldn't make out without the sound and then she blinked away tears and walked away as he looked on with pride.

The entire thing took one maybe two minutes, but it left his jaw on the ground. What had just happened? Why would she…

King George. It had to be. The conversation that they'd had before she'd gone into the room…it wasn't just a conversation, it was a deal of some kind. It was the only explanation he had for the way the guards suddenly let her leave the castle in peace. He'd threatened her, or him. Someone! He didn't care who he'd threatened, all he knew was that somehow King George had told her something that forced her to go into that room and tell him what she'd told him, and in return for doing it he was letting her go. Back into the woods, back into the dark, back to the group of dwarves who met her as she left.

He held his breath as Snow lifted the vial to her lips in the middle of the woods…

Grumpy stopped her. After a brief exchange of words, she put it away, and they walked on. He breathed a sigh of relief as she moved into their home and almost stopped watching when, that night, once they left her alone to her privacy, he watched as she downed it in one swallow.

"No!" he cried, turning and pushing the contents on the table behind him onto the floor. Glass shattered, books slammed against the stone, paper fluttered and droplets of ink scattered like rain. His heart raced. Yes, he'd given her the potion. Yes, he'd given it to her expecting she would take it. But he had hoped that it was nothing, that she wouldn't take it. He'd hoped that she'd keep her memories, wake up from this hopeless defeat she seemed to have where David was concerned, and go back to claim him. Apparently, he'd been wrong about that…

He'd been wrong about her. But not all was lost. He strode over to his crystal ball and summoned up a different image. The Seer had told him that she needed to forget in order to remember. Love was a two-way street. As long as one of them remembered, there was always hope.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Grumpy #Snow White #Prince Charming #David #King George #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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totalvibration · 4 years

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55 Albums Released in 2019 That Splash Oat Milk In My Earl Grey

This year felt like slo-mo, a holding pattern and a fast-forward button stumbling towards unknown ends. I spent the early months in paternal bliss and sleep deprivation, caring for my newborn daughter, then spent the rest of the year running to slow down… to make the most of small moments with my family, to juggle that thing every lifestyle magazine calls the work-life balance, to know when I need help and being willing to ask for it, to making priorities with loved ones.

Also, after years of oolongs and a staunch no-milk-in-tea-except-milk-teas policy, I started putting honey and oat milk in my Earl Grey, an old tea standby that's felt warmly familiar in colder months. Similarly, I dug my heels into familiar-to-me gnarly metal, deep drone and abrasive punk this year, uninterested in poptimist takes on indie-rock. In an effort to maximize more time with new family and less with bulls***, I leaned hard into my Viking's Choice column at NPR Music (which went weekly!) to shout out underground debauchery and beauty to anyone who would listen.

Below are 55 albums (and a few reissues and archival releases) that hit me in different ways over 2019. No ranking, just links out to Bandcamp where available. They come paired with emoji because that's a thing I do on Twitter.

See also:

Viking's Choice: The Year In The Loud And The Weird (my annual year-end episode of All Songs Considered)

20 Punk Albums Released In 2019 That Flip Eggs, Pick Up Chains

20 Metal Albums Released In 2019 That Bluurgh Over Sick Riffs

A nine-hour playlist of 2019 jamz

But first, some stray thoughts:

Ta-Nehisi Coates' still-ongoing Captain America run has been extremely rewarding. A beloved superhero comes to terms with the line between patriotism and nationalism as Coates underlines that American progress often comes from reluctance.

Daniel Warren Johnson's Murder Falcon spoke to me not only as a metalhead who loves cartoonishly kick-ass violence, but also as a dude with a tender heart… that final issue still gets me in the feels.

Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colours is secretly a trilogy of movies about the loving, painstaking process of creation, specifically music. I'd never seen any of them until paternity leave (and a sleeping baby) gave me hours to binge long-neglected to-watch lists. In 1993's Blue, in particular, a composition mirrors the grief of Juliette Binoche in an exquisite performance.

Tiny Desk concerts I produced for NPR Music in 2019: American Football (with a children’s choir!), Thou, Erin Rae, Carly Rae Jepsen (sort of), Jimmy Eat World and Mount Eerie (videos coming in 2020).

There’s a gallery at Glenstone, a truly stunning museum experience, that’s literally just a room full of books, a sculpted wooden bench and a large window that looks out on the rolling hills of Maryland. I could spend hours there.

The second season of KCRW's Lost Notes, hosted by Jessica Hopper, built episodes like albums, sequenced with eureka moments throughout. See: the story of a teenage Farsi New Wave sibling duo and a difficult and necessary reassessment of John Fahey through the women in his life.

High Spirits (May 7, Atlas Brew Works) is such a force for good. Heavy metal singalongs about love, friendship and positivity. I feel like this band needs to tour with Sheer Mag to be fully appreciated by an unknowing audience.

Has your baseball team ever won the pennant with the sleeping baby on your chest? So many silent screams of joy in our household as the Nats not only won the National League, but the whole dang World Series. I haven't lived in a city/state with a baseball team that's gone to the World Series since 1995.

Circuit Des Yeux's Haley Fohr (Dec. 5, Hirshhorn) tuned her voice to feedback hum and the rest that followed felt like a wordless eulogy for 2019. I felt renewed by it.

I can't think of a prettier song released in 2019 than "This Time Around" by Jessica Pratt. It is saudade whispered into the wind.

This was my Linda Ronstadt year. Heart Like a Wheel, Canciones de mi Padre, her records with the Stone Poneys — the Queen of LA, with a voice that both bursts out of and melts into dusk, softened the edges of long days with an equally adventurous and easygoing spirit.

🚙 Petrol Girls, Cut & Stitch: In 2019, it was crucial — life-affirming and -saving, even — to make your own noise. "This is the sound / It moves in our bodies / It passes through time / Brings what came before us," Petrol Girls' Ren Aldridge screamed at the top of a turbulent punk record filled with compassion. That boundless philosophy resonated with me this year — to listen and absorb more deeply, to excavate the traces of memory in music.

👽 Blood Incantation, Hidden History of the Human Race: Simultaneously exists in the gaping maw of death-metal tradition and the galaxy brain of its future.

💾 Kali Malone, The Sacrificial Code: Seeks the solemnity of the drone in the pipe organ, but leans into the vulnerability pushed through the air.

🕹️ billy woods & Kenny Segal, Hiding Places: An album-length self-excavation that crawls through moldy memories in a brutal poetry that is at times darkly funny but mostly wrestles with personal and societal truths that'll leave you touched, shook.

📟 Holly Herndon, PROTO: One of our deepest thinkers went to the past to make music from the future.

🚨 Rakta, Falha Comum: Creepazoid emanations from a subterranean plane.

🐣 Sunwatchers, Illegal Moves: Ecstatic protest music summoning the beauty and rage of Alice Coltrane, Sonny Sharrock, Rhys Chatham and Hawkwind.

🏞 Bill Orcutt, Odds Against Tomorrow: The most engaging, radical, but surprisingly accessible solo guitar album of the year. Bill Orcutt's ragged-yet-tender guitar skronk gives shaggy texture to rapturous melodies.

🍕 Control Top, Covert Contracts: This hits some dance-punky Erase Errata sweet spots for me, but with the technical finesse of a power trio.

🚟 Real Life Rock & Roll Band, Hollerin' the Spirit: Applies minimalist techniques to rumbling, dueling guitar histrionics with a reckless, but locked-in energy. Never woulda thunk American Football and Henry Flynt could hoedown together.

🐠 Caroline Shaw & Attacca Quartet, Orange: Balances austere beauty with rumbling earth. Riveting music for string quartet.

💥 Mdou Moctor, Ilana (The Creator): Where ZZ Top bombast, Black Sabbath riffs and Tuareg trance rhythms swirl into an acid-rock stomp.

👑 Vagabon, Vagabon: Goes so many places, yet always returns home.

🎭 JPEGMAFIA, All My Heroes Are Cornballs: A neon-freaked feast blasted in slow mo and fast forward all at once.

🌆 Denzel Curry, ZUU: Dude's a metal rapper without a metal band, but if he ever started one, I'm down 100 percent.

💨 Whistling Arrow, Whistling Arrow: An avant UK supergroup of prepared guitar, violin, electronics and hypnotic percussion drinks deep of dark lagers and mossy earth.

🐸 101 Notes on Jazz: Things are getting hard around the boloney hole...

🐳 M. Sage, Catch a Blessing: Warm, fuzzy world-building from blocks of sound stretched and warped into a new nostalgia.

🚇 Mizmor, Cairn: Deliberate and patient in its annihilating pace; lumbering, yet regally melodic riffs echo into a chasm of feedback.

🌅 Takafumi Matsubara, Strange, Beautiful And Fast: Next-level grind from the Gridlink mastermind and friends. While No One Knows What the Dead Think picked up where Discordance Axis left off, Takafumi Matsubara shreds into the future.

🐎 American Football, LP3: A reunion that keeps on giving and growing. Impressionistic in its quietly bursting arrangements and attuned to the individual talents of its vocal guests, especially that stunning duet with Hayley Williams.

🔋 v/a, Seitō: In the Beginning, Woman Was the Sun: This compilation does for modern Japanese women in experimental music what P.S.F.’s Tokyo Flashback comps did for the Japanese psychedelic scenes of yore.

👗 Carly Rae Jepsen, Dedicated: Didn't hold together as much as I wanted, or play like E•MO•TION's late-night mixtape, but every time one of its singles popped up on a friend's playlist -- "Julien," "Want You in My Room," "The Sound" and especially the slow-burn synth-pop exhaustion of "Too Much" -- I'd think, "Carly Rae Jepsen is the Queen of the Song I Needed Right Now."

🌕 Rong, wormhat: Just bonkers. Boston's Rong channels the joyous chaos of Japanese punks Melt-Banana and the aggro skronk of Brainiac with a tad of Deerhoof's weirdo-pop hooks.

✊🏿 Sounds of Liberation, Sounds of Liberation / Unreleased Columbia University 1973: Free jazz and funk band deep in spiritual grooves. Killer performances all around, but such a trip to hear more from young vibraphonist Khan Jamal during his Drum Dance to the Motherland era.

🐬 Great Grandpa, Four of Arrows: If Sixpence None the Richer made an emo record, but only had Return of the Frog Queen on the mood board.

📳 Sarah Louise, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars: One of my favorite guitarists right now. Digitally processes melodies and single notes in an electronic elation landing somewhere between Robert Fripp, Alice Coltrane and Terry Riley.

📮 Sarah Hennies, Reservoir 1: An immersive sound cycle in constant motion, a quiet rumble that slowly transforms in and out of a glorious clatter.

👣 Psychedelic Speed Freaks, Psychedelic Speed Freaks: Munehiro Narita essentially picks up where High Rise left off, still plays the guitar like it's about to blow up.

🍩 Town Portal, Of Violence: Most instrumental post/prog-rock puts me to sleep, but this Danish trio illustrates just how dynamic and sound-rich this music can be.

🛀 Jim O'Rourke, steamroom 45: An electronic excavation from the deep abyss. The 37-minute "Sigaretstraat" is a master class in patience, dynamics and sublime dissonance.

🎀 Cristina Quesada, I Think I Heard a Rumor: Multi-lingual, ultra-chic dance-pop with super-smart synth arrangements. Think: Tiki drinks and mod dresses.

⏹ John Luther Adams, Become Desert: Truly time-less music; as in, music without time.

⏏ Julia Reidy, brace, brace: Late night, longform excursions that offer an alternate Blade Runner soundtrack with frenzied 12-string, fuzzy synth glossolalia and an Auto-Tuned bummer haze.

🚞 A Million Dollars, I Love Your Voice and I Love You: Weird and warped twee-pop that woulda headlined Silent Barn.

📠 Priests, The Seduction of Kansas: Truth-telling and truth-seeking through a mangled disco haze and bleak New Wave romanticism.

🏭 Werner Durand with Amelia Cuni and Victor Meertens, processions: Majestic drones capture an undulating wonder with enveloping somnolence.

🎳 Sheer Mag, A Distant Call: The denim-and-leather-jacket-wearing standard bearers of truly independent rock and roll double-downed on their sound, but opened their hearts a bit more.

📒 Susan Alcorn / Joe McPhee / Ken Vandermark, Invitation to a Dream: Illuminates the flickering motions of exploration.

😱 Serpent Column, Mirror in Darkness: Pitch-black metal chaos with forceful melodies twisted into the tableau. Honestly? Deathspell Omega but skramz.

🏅 Pernice Brothers, Spread the Feeling: Joe Pernice digs into his '80s record collection to return with some of his most delicately written, winsome guitar-pop in years and tons of one-liners: "Love is a shoeless charlatan, a silver-tongued huckster with a sadist’s lipless grin."

🍓 Kalie Schorr, Open Book: Whip-smart, hook-twanged country-pop raised on MTV2 pop-punk and Sheryl Crow.

📀 Angel Olsen, All Mirrors: In a year where we lost Scott Walker, this felt like a torch passed from 1969.

😪 Mount Eerie, Lost Wisdom pt. 2: Phil Elverum draws us in evermore, revisiting a beloved album, mode and collaborator (the remarkable Julie Doiron), and molding them into his ever-changing songwriting and circumstance. Contains the most tender couplet of the year, which I'll carry with me always: "If ever the bonfire that I carry around could warm you again / I will be out here in the weather for you glowing."

🙉 75 Dollar Bill, I Was Real: Serious hypno-grooves from these drone excavators.

👢 Karen Marks, Cold Cafe: The early '80s artist behind the Sky Girl comp's broodiest track gets a few more songs of existential synth-pop and jangly post-punk. Just wanna put them on mixtapes for friends.

🍻 Haunt, If Icarus Could Fly: Synthesizes an earnest, studied love for '80s heavy metal with tons of guitar harmonies and can-crushing anthems, yes, but also a ton of heart.

🍖 Bob Dylan, The Rolling Thunder Revue: The strangest, most mystical and wild Dylan persona in all of its face-painted glory.

🌹 A Pregnant Light, Broken Play: Damian Master's endless creativity and shameless bravado coalesce into a rugged beauty. As always, riffs for days.

🦄 Fire-Toolz, Field Whispers (Into the Crystal Palace): Clashes New Age synthscapes, clubby raves, jazz fusion and metal shrieks into an idiosyncratic master's pure creation.

🌇 Maria W Horn, Epistasis: Quiet, yet forceful acoustic elements are wrapped in the sinews of technology to blur composition. A stirring mix of icy string drones and minimalist piano.

🐲 Soul Glo, The N**** in Me Is Me: Distills the rage and terror of living in America while being black with blunt force.

🍢 Mára, Here Behold Your Own: Snapshots of a time before parenthood rendered in garbled organ, ambient guitar loops and echoing lullabies. Felt this one deeply.

🚙 The Go-Betweens, G Stands for Go-Betweens: The Go-Betweens Anthology - Volume 2: There's a live KCRW version of "Quiet Heart" that just absolutely destroys me. Deeply thankful for the presentation and preservation that's gone into these box sets.

😈 Bat for Lashes, Lost Girls: A coming-of-age concept album about a teenage vampire gang that was somehow severely overlooked. Some of Natasha's most tender songwriting and a rich synth-pop world that'd make M83 jealous.

#2019 in music

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shooter-nobunagun · 4 years

Text

Quarantine UST 5

//Seriously, writing for such a sustained stretch is...unprecedented...I think I haven’t done this since the beginning of my intro into this fandom. Maybe this period of time is good for something after all.

And yes, I definitely binged my way through FF7R as soon as it came out...

The days seemed to pass in a blur; yet as Sio woke up after another night of binging Netflix with Jess, it felt like nothing had changed, either. She’d adjusted to the rhythm of her new life fairly well: sleep in until 10am or so, leisurely troop downstairs for breakfast after brushing her teeth⁠—usually Adam was already up and frying some eggs, or sometimes they picked up coffee and pastries from a local cafe⁠—clean up, then she might go for a walk outside or spent some time in the yard while catching up on emails and texts from her family and Asao-san. By then, Jess and Mahesh were usually awake, and they’d all gather again for lunch (or in the other twos’ case, brunch), and afterwards Sio usually would do her training, either by herself or under Adam’s watchful guidance. Then it was free time (which usually involved another stroll outside), dinner, sometimes a group activity, and then everybody retired to their rooms for the night.

Recently, the group started venturing out a bit more; at first it was just to the local cafe for drinks and snacks, but yesterday the group’d gone for another grocery run, this time at the farmer’s market. Even with all the restrictions in place, Sio was glad to be able to spend some time outdoors again, and picking from the wide variety of fresh produce was much more fun than going to the grocery store.

Yawing, the sniper continued lounging in her bed, absentmindedly scrolling through her texts from last night. Her parents were doing okay (actually most of Japan seemed alright by comparison) though obviously they were concerned about her health and safety. Asao-san’s latest couple of messages contained the usual news and gossip, although the last one before she signed off left the sniper blushing and covering her face.

[Asao Kaoru]: By the way, how are things with Jack-san? You two seem to be getting awfully close... (ΦωΦ)~ Did you get any more peeks in during training?

“Moou, Asao-saaaan!! I-It’s not like, that!” The sniper screeched, tugging her hair. “Jeeze, why does everybody keep assuming we’re gonna...hook up or something like that...”

Admittedly, her own brain wasn’t helping matters; at this point, she’d given up on denying her attraction towards him⁠—besides her nightly little ritual, she’d already had at least one...steamy dream involving him and no clothing. “Ugh...why do I have to make things so complicated...”

‘I just want to get to know him better, not get a crush on him! Besides, knowing him, he probably has a girlfriend waiting for him back in London. Or at least, had one...unlike me...’ A cool, good-looking guy like him who was the epitome of the tall, dark and handsome type? Sio looked down at her own flat chest, unfashionable haircut and childish face, and sighed. ‘Yeah right; I’d never stand a chance. He’s probably got way more experience and prefers girls who look like Newton...’

The thought depressed her more than she expected; even though she knew her chances were slim, and that shacking up with your platoon leader probably wasn’t the best idea, the thought of not getting any closer than just friendly teammates made her heart sink straight to the ground. ‘I know I’m just a below-average high schooler, and I don’t even have anything going for me except my e-gene; but even I can still hope, right...?’

She moped about all through her morning routine, not really bothering to fix her hair or wear anything aside from putting on a pair of shorts (why bother, it wasn’t like she was cute or anything). Walking into the quiet kitchen, she pulled out a box of cereal and some milk, sullenly eating her cold breakfast.

“Good morning, Sio dear. Oh goodness, is something the matter? You’re looking awfully peaked...you don’t feel ill, do you?” Jess came down the stairs, Sio a bit surprised as it was unusual for the blonde to be up before noon. “Hmm, you don’t seem feverish...”

“Oh, good morning, Jess-san.” She heaved another sigh, not really interested in finishing the rest of her soggy bowl. “It’s, nothing...I’m not sick, I guess I just feel...”

“The quarantine blues?” The sniper nodded, and the blonde patted her shoulder sympathetically. “There there, it’s perfectly normal. Things are unprecedented, you can’t expect to keep your spirits up all the time in a situation like this.”

“Yeah, well...I guess I’m surprised I’d let it get to me. I mean, all things considered, it’s not like we’re suffering or anything. There’s a lot of people who have it way worse than us...”

‘Yeah, and here I am moping about because I have the hots for my platoon leader even though I don’t stand a chance...’

Jess nodded in sympathy. “Definitely, I can see that. But you know, that doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad, either. I can’t say the past week has been much of a vacation, despite what Mahesh likes to claim. Feeling down about everything that’s been going on is understandable, and it isn’t healthy to pretend otherwise.”

“True...thanks, Jess-san...um, I guess it does feel a little better to talk about it.” Sio stirred her cereal a bit, surprised that she was finally having a true conversation with the blonde that didn’t involve a fear of tongues and kisses (mostly).

“Of course, dear. I apologize for my earlier behaviors...but I am still serious when I say I do want to be there for you, should you ever want another ear,” the blonde smiled kindly at the younger girl. “By the way, where is Adam? Don’t tell me he’s still asleep?”

“Eh? Adam-san...uh, I dunno. He’s usually here by the time I wake up, so...” Sio shrugged. “It’s not like I checked his room, but maybe he went out for something?”

As if on cue the front door unlocked, both girls turning around as Adam walked in, bag in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. Sio rushed out to the foyer to help him unload and disinfect the door, keys, etc.

“Speak of the devil; we were just wondering about you,” Jess commented as Adam finally took his seat at the table. “New place this time?”

“Yeh; was checking out local places online yesterday and thought this might be a nice change of pace.” He passed out the drinks; only Mahesh’s chai latte remained untouched as the trio started unwrapping pastries and other baked goods. “Ogura, you’re alright with tea, correct? They didn’t seem to have anything like sencha, but I got jasmine, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, yes please; and thank you, Adam-san. You could’ve waited for us to get up,” Sio offered as she took a sip of her beverage. “I kinda feel bad for making you go all by yourself...”

“Eh, it’s fine. Even I like taking a break from cookin’ once in a while.” Their leader shrugged as he drank his coffee (pure black, no sugar or cream). “Besides, it’s nice to get some fresh air when it’s early in the morning. Also less folks t’ dodge...swear to god, every time we go out it’s like playing a game of Frogger...”

Sio sweatdropped, but it was true; as much as she cherished her daily walks, there was a reason why she preferred running on the treadmill. Trying to avoid other passerby who were also exercising or walking their dogs and also not getting run over by traffic... It was a good thing the yard was decently sized, and the days were slowly starting to warm up. The sniper glanced out the windows, where the golden rays were starting to bathe the garden with their yellow hues.

“Actually, I’m gonna eat out in the garden. The weather’s been so pleasant lately, might be nice for a change.” She took her tea and croissant with her; to her surprise, Adam followed. “Oh? Did you...also want to eat outside?”

“Why not; like you said, today seems to be shaping up to be pretty nice...would be a shame to spend it all indoors, again,” he gave her just a the slightest hints of a smile, and Sio felt her stomach fluttering with butterflies. Maybe she wasn’t insane for thinking it would be possible? Maybe?

“U-Um, s, so, how was the rest of the city?” She was stuttering again, much to her dismay; didn’t she get over this already?

Adam didn’t seem to notice, or at least, he didn’t comment on it. “Hm, mostly the same; not that many folks about, but all the better for me. At least we can still get takeaway and drinks.” He finished the rest of his cup. “I was surprised Jess’ up so early; usually she and Mirza sleep ‘til past noon...”

“Heh, me too.” Sio grinned as she finished her croissant. “Mm, this croissant is super flakey...so good...” If it weren’t for their training and exercise, she was sure she’d have gained at least 5 pounds by now. Even in the midst of a pandemic, San Francisco’s culinary scene did not disappoint; and that wasn’t even counting their cooking nights.

“To be honest, I’m more surprised you’ve been able to stick to a decent wake-up time every morning,” Adam teased, “considering someone always had to wake you for a morning meeting back at the Logan...”

The sniper nearly spit her tea back out. “H-Hey! Well, you’re always banging on my door every other morning anyway for some thing or other...so I figured, I might as well just save us both the trouble and get up anyway,” she pouted, cheeks tinged with pink. “Besides, those meetings were way early; if there’s one thing that’s better about this, is that I can at least sleep in a little...”

Adam smirked behind his sandwich, glad the sniper couldn’t see his face. For if she could, he was sure she’d be able to notice the warm flush spreading across his features, including his ears (mercifully hidden by his hair). She was adorable, really; the innocence of a girl, yet she was surprisingly insightful and able to see a clear line from point A to B, without being bogged down by details. ‘Not to mention that wit, when she actually works up the courage to talk back,’ he noted, recalling many of their previous conversations where she’d sparred with him using nothing but words.

Cunning, intuitive, determined and sincere; it was amazing how quickly his opinion of her changed, not just since she joined but even from the beginning of this quarantine. Hardly any of her quirks seemed detrimental now; silly at most, and charming at best. Was this what poets meant by love causing you to see everything through a rose-tinted lens? Even her appearance, which most people would probably consider average at best, gave him a flurry of feelings whenever he thought about them: large, round maroons, that cute bob with uneven bangs that could probably use a trim soon, and her slender, lithe figure... Adam swallowed and tried to turn his mind away from more lustful thoughts, but it was useless. It was obvious she was probably the most flat-chested female holder next to Geronimo, but it didn’t detract his attentions at all; if anything, he felt it suited her quite well. Once he’d caught a glimpse of those salacious photos Capa had distributed, and they gave him a bit of a shock—her willowy frame saddled with two huge water balloons that seemed to defy gravity, nevermind the fake, prancing-around poses the clones took.

All-in-all, good things definitely come in small packages, he decided. In fact, the smaller the better. Sio wasn’t that short, but her slight frame made it seem so, especially compared to him. He’d never paid attention, but Adam was sure the sniper would probably be just the right size for spooning, cuddled between his arms and those petite breasts could fit just right in his palms—

‘Hoo boy, stop right there Adam; you should not be thinking of your fellow holder in such a manner...’ But even his inner consciousness sounded half-hearted, as if it were just repeating things because that’s what was expected. And maybe it was right; even now, he still quarreled with himself on whether or not he should even pursue anything beyond friendly camaraderie with the girl. Her ambiguous feelings towards him aside, what if they got in trouble? What if it ended up interfering with their duties as e-gene holders? Or worse yet, what if it didn’t work out and the subsequent fallout ended up destroying their entire platoon?

“Adam-san?” He jerked up at her voice, having been lost in his own turmoil for the past couple of minutes. “Are you okay? You seem kind of...glum.”

You’re not wrong there, he almost said, but only shook his head. “Nah; just thinking about...stuff.”

The sniper nodded. “Yeah, I get that...I’ve been, kinda thinking on a lot of stuff too...”

Now it was Adam’s turn to be surprised. “Oh? Somethin’ else botherin’ you lately?”

“Ah uh, I mean nothing really...specific,” Sio squirmed, caught off-guard by his question. There was no way she could admit her burgeoning feelings for him. “I just...guess the whole pandemic situation is kind of getting to me, even though all things considered, this isn’t that terrible. But somehow things just feel...off.”

“Yeh, I get that too, sometimes. But I mean, this isn’t exactly a normal situation; people are sick and dying, we’re stuck in this house and still have to do our best to try and maintain a ‘normal’ life—and that’s not even counting the Objects mounting another attack at any minute.” Adam cut into the remainder of his muffin with a knife. “It’s normal to feel distressed about it—hell, I think I’d be more concerned if you weren’t...”

The sniper nodded, though she didn’t seem keen on finishing the rest of her pastries now, instead fiddling around with her fork. Adam felt a bit guilty; he hadn’t meant to ruin her nice garden breakfast with something gloomy like the virus. Especially not after they’d managed to have a normal, decent conversation.

“Hey uh, squirt? Y’know, if you need some time to yourself, you can skip your training for today,” he offered, the sniper blinking in surprise.

“Oh...I-I mean, it’s fine, you don’t have to make an exception for me; it’s not like I physically feel bad or anything...”

“Don’t worry about it; I wouldn’t want you around that equipment when you’re all distracted like this, anyway. Last thing we need is an accident,” Adam muttered. To be sure, she’d definitely improved quite a bit, but sometimes he still did worry about her.

“...Are you saying you don’t trust me to handle myself?”

“...I’m just taking precautions.”

“Hnnn...” Sio didn’t say anything more, instead sullenly sipping the rest of her tea.

Adam sighed inwardly. Why were girls so fickle to deal with at times? “...By the way, not sure if you’re interested, but one of our other care packages finally arrived, and they got our request for a game console plus some of the latest games, so...”

He didn’t finish, but Adam could tell by the way her eyes gleamed the second he mentioned the word Playstation. ‘Ah, so she’s also a gamer...’ Somehow he wasn’t surprised; it seemed natural that a military otaku would also be into video games, though he was curious if she played genres other than shooters or military sims.

“...What sort of games did they send?”

“Oh, I haven’t gone through them myself yet, but I’d assume a pretty wide variety...why, was there anything in particular you’re looking forward to?” Adam replied nonchalantly, testing out the waters. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to spend some time with her in a casual setting...

“Nothing really, but I mean, if there’s something good...” Her eyes shifted a bit over the edge of her drink, meeting his for a second before they darted back down at her plate. “I’ve been hearing a lot about Apex Legends...the guys from the Fifth Platoon are always talking about it.”

“Hm; I’m not that interested in battle royale types; I was actually thinking more along the lines of action RPG or adventure...”

They surreptitiously looked at each other for a few more seconds, before Adam suddenly got up.

“...You wanna go take a look, squirt?”

“...Okay.”

The two fast-walked back into the house, rushing by Jess who looked at the two in surprise and a yawning Mahesh, whom Adam barely had time to point to his drink—“don’t blame me if it’s cold, it’s not my fault you slept in”—and straight into the living room, where the 70-inch flatscreen sat in pristine condition, having only been used as a Netflix machine thus far. The package was still unopened, Sio carefully wiping it down first as Adam sliced the box open with ease.

“Oooh, what’s this? Looks like a headset...wait, oh my god is this one of those VR things everyone’s been talking about?” Sio’s eyes glittered with excitement as she dug around. “Wow, I wanna try it out later!”

“Let’s see, here’s the PS4,” Adam carefully set the machine up, along with its cables, “and as for games...well, looks like they did include Apex Legends, so if you want to give it a shot squirt, go ahead. Other than that...Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, whatever the latest iteration of Call of Duty is, Devil May Cry 5—that might be fun—Monster Hunter: World, and...well well,” Adam let a low whistle, “what do we have here?”

Sio looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised as she read the title. “Final Fantasy 7...wait, isn’t this game super old?”

“Look closer, squirt; it’s the remake. I don’t know how those bastards managed to pull it off with everything that’s going on, but I know what I’ll be playing tonight.” Adam tried not to sound too eager, but it was hard; Final Fantasy VII, while already dated by the time he was old enough to enjoy video games, was still considered a classic, and he’d secretly been hoping for a chance to play it as soon as it was announced.

Sio looked on in wonder as Adam diligently set the rest of the system up. He seemed much younger for a change, almost like a puppy instead of a wolf. His boyish enthusiasm was charming, and Sio felt like she was seeing a part of his true self, for once. It made her feel warm all over, but not in a horny way; rather, it was the joy of seeing him genuinely happy for once, instead of shouldering the burden of being their leader. ‘So I was right about him being a gamer...I knew that Metal Gear Rising t-shirt was more than just a coincidence.’

“Well, I guess I know what we’re playing then...” Now that everything was finally ready, she took a seat on the couch next to Adam; both sets of eyes now glued to the giant screen as the opening sequence panned over the in-game city of Midgar, the classic theme blasting from the speakers.

Though Sio didn’t know much about the Final Fantasy series (famous as it was, she preferred her games with more bullet-hell sequences and tanks), within a few minutes she could see why it was so revered, and why Adam was so excited. Movie-quality graphics aside, the action was tightly-paced and almost non-stop, Sio getting more engrossed herself as Adam deftly controlled the action on-screen. Before either of them knew it, it was past lunchtime; the only indication any time passed at all was Sio’s stomach complaining rather loudly after Adam finally got Cloud & co. past chapter 3.

“Whoa, I didn’t know it was so...cool,” Sio sat down to their late lunch (Chinese takeout), still in a bit of a daze at her mind replayed the action sequences and storyline. “No wonder it’s so popular...”

“Oh yeh; holy hell, they did a banger of a job remaking it,” Adam dug into the boxes with relish, barely paying attention to what was going into his mouth. “Shit, the graphics, characterization, soundtrack—and the overhauled ATB system is amazing—”

“I like the characters a lot! They look so realistic...well, as realistic as anime characters can get,” Sio mused, remembering the intro with one very well-rendered Cloud Strife. “So, I’m guessing you like a lot of JRPGs then...?”

Adam nodded. “I do, but I’ll play pretty much anything, honestly. I think the only genres I don’t do are racing and puzzles.” He shook his head, emptying the rest of his plate. “You? I prefer it when the action’s hot, bonus points if it’s got a great story.”

“Uh, I don’t play that many RPGs in general, but sometimes I do if it’s really good. But uh, yeah, I...prefer shooters like Ikaruga, or Biohazard—er, I think they call it Resident Evil outside of Japan? Oh, but there was that one series that came out a while ago, and I was surprised because I also liked the plot a lot...it’s called Bioshock?”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised to hear that; a military otaku like you, would be shocked if you didn’t have some type of shoot-’em-up as your top three,” Adam smirked, Sio laughing sheepishly. “Anyway, if you wanna start your own file while I’m working out, go ahead; like I said, you should take a break today, get some time in for yourself.”

“Ah—oh, uh, okay...thanks,” Sio trailed off as Adam left, presumably to change and then train. “Well...guess I’ll try playing by myself.”

The console booted up, and soon the sniper settled into a comfy pile of cushions, learning the battle system based on what Adam was doing earlier. While years of shooters—first person and otherwise—had honed her reflexes fairly well, Sio had to admit this system of ATB, materia, and character swapping was a bit of unknown territory. Luckily the game was generous with tutorials, but she still struggled a bit against her first real boss, after the beginning section was over. She groaned as the ‘game over’ screen flashed, kneading her temples.

“Man, I thought I had it! What happened...did I not use the right skills?”

“You might wanna check your materia slots, squirt. Those’ll matter a lot in the coming battles.”

A low, husky tone breathed right next to her ear, and Sio nearly jumped out of her skin. “Aaagggh! A-Adam-san, don’t do that! You scared the crap out of me...” She protested, hugging a pillow to her chest as Adam chuckled.

“Sorry squirt, but I was curious to see how you’d do. Didn’t wanna interrupt the fight, though seems like you’re gonna need to retool your party’s materia and gear first.” When he left, Adam was curious if the girl would continue playing Final Fantasy, or pop in another game. But it seemed Cloud Strife’s fabulous chocobo-locks had worked their magic, and he returned from training to find the sniper valiantly trying to defeat the motorcycle-crazy Rosche.

“Hrrm...I don’t really know what some of these descriptions mean. Magic I get, but things like MP up? Chakra?”

“Budge up a bit there, squirt, and I’ll give you some tips.” The sniper scooted to make room for the silver-haired man, as he plopped himself onto the couch and took the controller. “First off, always get HP up; more health never hurts. And then of course, healing...”

Sio nodded, but in reality she was only half paying attention. Adam was sitting right next to her, along with those chiseled muscles still glistening with sweat as his shirt clung to those washboard abs...swallowing thickly, she forced herself to listen to his advice, but even his scent was distracting; there was sweat, but it wasn’t offensive, mixed with a rather musky odor that she couldn’t quite place...

“—and this should be a pretty good setup,” Adam finished. “Uh, squirt? Ogura?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Oy, snap out of it; what’s gotten into you?

“A-Ah—huh? Hai? I-I’m, fine...” Adam raised an eyebrow, but Sio snatched the controller back before anything else happened. “Th, Thanks for the advice...I think I’ll be able to get him this time...”

Adam blinked. “...Alright. Well, good luck then.”

‘Was she checking me out?’ Though he tried not to rouse suspicion as he left, he’d definitely noticed Sio staring at more than just the screen while he’d been redoing her party members. ‘And I’m pretty sure she wasn’t randomly looking around the house.’ Oh no. The sniper definitely had a long way to go if she wanted to be more discreet about her little voyeuristic habits.

The thought of their innocent little sniper actually being not-so-innocent made him hot all over again, and Adam groaned, because he knew this was the kind of heat that couldn’t be solved with simply a cold shower.

“Bloody hell...” ----- “Well, it sure seems like you two have found your quarantine activity,” Mahesh commented at dinner that night, both the sniper and the Ripper arriving long after the food arrived. “Sorry, we just went ahead and ordered some stuff we thought you’d enjoy.” He pushed their respective bentos towards the other two. “But it’s Japanese tonight, Sio, so hopefully it’s up to your standards.”

“Mmm...oh man, it’s so nice to eat Japanese food again...” Sighing with delight, Sio eagerly dug into her chicken karaage, potato salad and white rice. “A-Ah, that’s not to say the food we’ve been getting is bad or anything, it’s been really fun to try a lot of different cuisines and taste everybody’s home cooking too...”

“This is really good; I guess they weren’t kidding about San Francisco being a melting pot,” Adam nodded in approval. “Good thing DOGOO’s footin’ the bill...I wouldn’t fancy being the one having to pay for all this.”

“Just like they’re paying for all your gaming purchases?” Jess smiled knowingly at the other two, who proceeded to turn oddly pink. “What are you two playing anyway that’s got you so engrossed? It must be good, if you two are willing to skip dinner.”

“Oh, uh, it’s the latest Final Fantasy VII Remake! I’ve never played it before, but Adam has, and then I started playing it too and it’s just so good and the battles are super cool and it’s a lot of fun to play--” Sio started gesticulating wildly, chopsticks flinging rice haphazardly and Adam had to sternly remind her to not toss food everywhere.

“Oy squirt, calm down! Say it, don’t spray it.” He muttered, flicking a piece of rice off his shirt.

“And then they even sent a VR headset! Which I’m super curious about,” Sio finally finished her bento, so they could talk without the risk of food flying about. “You guys should try it out too! I-I mean, not that I’m forcing you two to play video games if you’re not interested...”

Mahesh hummed in amusement, looking at least mildly fascinated. “I’m probably a ‘casual’ gamer by yours and Adam’s standards, but I’d be willing to try out this virtual reality deal. I wonder how it compares with Capa’s illusions...”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Sio grimaced, still remembering all those inappropriate pictures Capa took (and then distributed, the nerve of him). “Pervy old man...”

“Well, certainly we won’t have to worry about that. Let’s all check it out, then; Jess, you in?”

The blonde nodded, though not without conceding that gaming wasn’t really her thing, but it might be fun to watch others.

“I’m more of an analogue girl; I don’t care that much for all those flashy explosions on screen, but bring me a set of Catan or Dixit and I’ll play any day.”

Now the entire squad was circled in the living room, the large windows open for some fresh, night air. After some rigging, Adam managed to figure out how to configure an output so those who weren’t wearing the headset could see what was going on, via his laptop.

“Alright, now who’s our first lucky contestant? Sio-chan, since you seem so excited, why don’t you go first?”

The sniper squeaked, not being used to put on the spot. “M, M-Me? U-Uh, I’ve been playing a lot of games today, s-so, why don’t you or Jess try it?” She laughed nervously, hoping they wouldn’t force her to take center stage.

“Yeh Mirza, you seem awfully eager to see how it works...why don’t you give it a whirl,” Adam goaded. Those dark eyes seem to meet his in a challenge, before the Indian resolutely put on the gear.

Everybody else watched eagerly as the screen loaded up. “Whoa; I’m not going to lie, the graphics aren’t photorealistic, but it sure feels like you’re somewhere else,” Mahesh gingerly stepped around, everyone suddenly giving him a wide berth as he set up the boundaries. “Please warn me if I’m about to run into something, or someone; I can’t exactly see anything in the real world...”

“I wonder if we’ll ever get to the point where it’ll feel even more like we’re inside a different world,” Sio said quietly to Adam, as Mahesh started playing a rhythm-action game called Beat Saber. “I don’t like Capa, but I have to admit his AU weapon is incredible. When I was doing those training exercises, it really felt like I was in a jungle, or in the middle of Shibuya...”

“Maybe; but I think we’ve got a ways to go,” Adam responded dryly, arching an eyebrow as the Indian flailed his arms all over the place. “...Definitely a ways to go.”

After a couple of tracks, Adam couldn’t take it anymore; seeing Mirza’s piss-poor coordination and timing destroyed any sense of fun or pleasure from the thumping EDM/techno tracks provided by the game. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Let me give it a try.”

“More like Adam can’t stand Mahesh butchering those songs anymore,” Jess whispered, and Sio giggled. “He doesn’t like talking about his hobbies, but I know for a fact he’s into these music-type games. Who else do you think petitioned to get that dancing revolution machine installed in the Logan’s workout room...”

Before Sio could fully realize that statement, Adam took over. He selected a track that none of them had ever heard of before, and despite this being his first time playing, immediately notched the difficulty up to Hard. “Someone’s tryin’ to show off, eh?” Mahesh teased, but that didn’t seem to deter the silver-haired man one bit. If anything, Adam was laser-focused on the track before him, slicing through the colored blocks flying past with coordinated ease, as if he’d memorized the track beforehand.

“Whoa, he’s so good...how the heck does he know where to slice and stuff? I can barely keep up with what color they are, let alone what direction to hit,” Sio murmured, staring at the neon-colored action in awe. “There’s no way...he hasn’t played this before, has he?” She watched as Adam completed another combo streak, his multiplier at the max of 8x. “What the hell...”

Mahesh shrugged. “Who knows; I don’t think so, since VR is so new, but that’s Adam for you. Always full of hidden surprises...and probably some he hasn’t even revealed yet.” The trio watched in silence until Adam finished the track, with an impressive score of A, to their fervent applause.

“Well that was an ace performance! Especially for your first try.”

“No kidding; what, can you see the blocks before they appear or something? Sure you don’t have some hidden ability to see the future?” Jess jokingly suggested, though for some reason Adam flinched a bit at the statement.

“...Ha ha, real funny. If you must know, it helps a lot when you’re familiar with the song...”

“Eh? Adam-san, so you like this type of music, huh? Electronica?”

For some reason the sniper’s question made him blush, his cheeks turning even redder than they already were from the faux-workout. “Uh, yeh...I listen to a whole bunch of stuff, just so happens I recognized this track, and uh, decided to give it a go...”

“Now now, no need to be modest! Music or not, you really are good at this type of stuff. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised, given how skilled you are on the battlefield...” Mahesh praised.

“Yeh, and it’s a good thing you’re a defender-type, not an attacker; otherwise we’d be long dead already,” Adam replied sarcastically, making a jab at the Indian’s less-than-stellar hand-eye coordination. “Anyway, I’m headin’ up; that took more out of me than I expected, and I want a quick rinse before bed. G’night.”

“Oh uh, good night, Adam-san,” Sio watched curiously as he climbed up the stairs. “I wonder if he’s upset about something...it’s not that late,” she glanced at the clock, which just hit 10:30pm. “Maybe he’s tired.”

“Or, more like someone’s just bashful. Don’t worry Sio, he’s not offended. I just don’t think he’s the type who likes being the center of attention all of a sudden,” Jess mused, as Mahesh picked up the controls again. “Ironic, considering he’s our de facto platoon leader.”

“Well, you don’t have to be outgoing to be a leader, I guess.” Sio nodded, reaffirming her thoughts. Adam was not the smoothest talker, but he had a certain charisma, especially on the battlefield. While Nobunaga’s e-gene was invaluable for strategizing, she wouldn’t deny that Adam knew how to adapt and call the shots, especially in the heat of battle. It was the same type of charisma she felt now, that inexplicably drew her towards him, despite his stoicism and sometimes abrasive words.

‘Though, he’s definitely less harsh, now. Not just his words, but the way he acts, around everybody too...’

He was a kind person, she decided. Probably just not used to letting his guard down, and Sio had a feeling that was partly due to his childhood, of being alone and having to fend for himself. ‘Kinda like me, except I’m just super awkward and terrible with talking to people in general...’

“I liked that song he played...I don’t usually listen to music without lyrics, but it’s really catchy. I kinda wanna listen to it again...” Sio pondered as the rest of the group finally decided to retire for the night.

“Why don’t you go ask him?” Sio blinked in surprise as Mahesh sidled up next to her. “He said he’d heard it before, right? Maybe he can share it with you.”

“Ah, I—uh, I don’t, wanna bother him with something trivial like that...” She laughed nervously, though Mahesh simply winked at her. She stopped short of the attic staircase right before the room, and looked up. The door was already closed, and he was probably already asleep, but Mahesh’s suggestion repeated itself in her mind.

‘Actually, maybe I will...after all, why not. I’ll ask him tomorrow...what kind of music he likes...’

If she was lucky, maybe he’d even offer to let her listen to some. Flushing hotly at the thought, Sio quickly went into her room and dove underneath the covers.

‘Ah Sio...what are you getting yourself into now...’

#documentation #//herp #//yay video game #//also beat saber lol

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aurora077 · 4 years

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Harry Potter and the OMG Hermione is not Ugly - Chapter 8

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12755845/8/Harry-Potter-and-the-OMG-Hermione-is-not-ugly

Heart to heart -- With Snape!

Two pairs of eyes followed Harry and Ron as they sat down to breakfast. The owners of those eyes would be dismayed to know that they were having the exact same thought as the other in reaction to seeing the redhead:

Why’d it have to be him???

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After having the most restful night of sleep since she realised her feelings, Hermione had gone down to breakfast in a slightly cheerful mood. She made sure to go down extra early so that nobody would be able to tell she hadn’t gone back to her dorm at all, but instead they’d assume that she had just gone to bed late and woke up early. (Or, so she hoped.) Oblivious to Harry’s worry, she munched on her toast idly, thinking about the Charms quiz they’d be getting in a few days.

That is of course, until her friends came down to breakfast, bringing her earlier dilemma to the forefront of her mind.

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Malfoy had been having trouble sleeping ever since The Incident. He was always tired, he found no pleasure in the things he liked (including leading the Inquisitorial Squad and taking points from his fellow students), and he found himself sighing all the time.

He’d had another rough night and decided he’d just forget about trying to sleep in and go down to breakfast early. Surprisingly, someone else appeared to have beaten him to it. There was Granger, sitting at the Gryffindor table all by her lonesome, eating her meal and practicing charms-- quite absentmindedly apparently because a teapot was wobbling dangerously next to her and she appeared not to notice it. Her wand was nowhere in sight and Malfoy was struck with an odd bout of admiration. Even if the witch in question was doing it unconsciously, wandless magic was an impressive feat.

He settled for watching her go through a variety of charms while eating his eggs. It was quite amusing. The teapot had floated in the air for a while, going through some interesting transitions. Finally, after being shrunk to the size of a teacup, it righted itself and abruptly settled back on the table as it turned a shade of purple that would have made Dumbledore sing.

He was just grateful she hadn’t managed to make it explode.

Of course her Charms session was cut short by the arrival of her friends, who were inexplicably early as well.

As he watched them come into the hall his bad mood returned. No point in sitting there watching the Golden Trio act all chummy, he decided, and promptly left the hall.

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“Hermione! There you are!” said Harry, plopping down next to her and scanning her worriedly. “Is something wrong?” she said, eyes widening at the sight of the bags under his eyes, “Did something happen?” Ron snorted as he took a seat beside Harry, “Nothing’s wrong Hermione. Harry just spent—ouch!” He glared at Harry, whose foot had mashed his under the table, “What was that for?” Harry gulped, “Sorry mate...accident.” He turned back to Hermione while Ron muttered curses under his breath and bent down to check on his sore foot, “I just couldn’t sleep, nothing to worry about.” He smiled at her convincingly (or so he hoped). Ron had almost outed him. It wouldn’t do to have her find out that he spent all night looking for her on the map, she might think he was stalking her. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to think he was a creep. “Oh no! Was it the dreams about you-know-who again?” she cried worriedly. Ron, having caught on to what Harry had been trying to do but also taking the opportunity for a little revenge, emerged from under the table with a wicked smile on his face, “No don’t worry Hermione it was nothing like that at all. He’s just been having a lot of dreams with Malfoy as the star lately.” Harry sputtered in indignation but couldn’t refute it without exposing that he was lying so he had to let it slide. Shooting a glare at Ron, he completely missed the way Hermione’s face fell.

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Draco had left in such a hurry that his breakfast had not digested well. He groaned at the slight stomach-ache he was having and decided he’d just have to go get something from the Hospital Wing. While waiting for Madame Pomfrey to attend to him, he heard a loud thump followed by several derogatory words. Curiosity getting the better of him he peered around the curtains to be met with Professor Snape’s angry face looking up at him from the floor.

“Well don’t just stand there, help me up!” he demanded.

“Sorry Professor!” said Draco, swiftly offering his aid to the fallen man.

Snape sat on the bed, rubbing his head gingerly. He did notice that he felt a lot better than he had in ages....physically at least. He was about to ask why Draco was in his chambers before he realised that he was actually in the Hospital Wing.

“What happened Professor?” Draco asked, curious and also bit concerned as to why his favourite teacher was in the Hospital Wing. Snape privately wondered the same thing but snarkily replied, “I fell out of bed Draco, don’t tell me you’re becoming as slow as Weasley now.” Draco was taken aback. It wasn’t like the Professor to speak to him like that. Crabbe and Goyle maybe but not him.

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As soon as the words left his mouth, Severus regretted it. He saw the slight hurt on the boy’s face and softened. “Forgive me Draco,” he said, with a small groan as his head throbbed, “I’m not particularly myself at the moment”. The boy just nodded a silent acceptance but continued to look worriedly at him as Madame Pomfrey ushered him away for his own treatment.

He’d always had a soft spot for Draco. The boy reminded him slightly of himself if he was being honest. Draco was smart and cunning, but what really struck a chord with him was the fact that the boy was always vying for his father’s approval, and to a less noticeable extent, his love and attention. Severus, as a boy, had once craved his own father’s approval, but as he had told Lily once, his father did not like much of anything—which included his own wife and son. And while he had no doubt that Lucius loved Draco, the Malfoy family wasn’t exactly what you would call warm and cuddly.

Then there was the fact that once upon a time, Severus himself wanted Lucius’ approval. It was part of the reason he had used that dreaded word on the love of his life that fateful day. Wanting to fit in with the group of boys who had recently accepted him as a part of them (all future death eaters but Lucius being the ‘leader’) he had done something unforgivable and lost the most precious person to him in the whole world.

The person he’d confessed his love to just the day before, his brain supplied, and his eyes widened in horror at the memory of what landed him in the Hospital Wing in the first place.

“Oh no..oh no,” he gasped, and rubbed the bridge of his nose to try and alleviate the migraine that was fast approaching. What had he done?!

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“Professor!” Draco cried, “What’s the matter?” He had gone to drink the potion for his stomach and was about to leave but upon hearing the Professor’s pained cries he doubled back. He found Snape rocking back and forth slowly on the bed, and ran to get Madame Pomfrey. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked nervously.

“He’ll be fine, the Professor’s just having a stressful time right now,” said the nurse, coaxing a calming draught down Snape’s throat, “Be a dear and keep him company for a while would you? Just until I come back to determine if he’s ready to leave.” “Yes Ma’am,” Draco gulped; coming from her, it wasn’t a request but rather an order. She was one terrifying lady when she wanted to be and he dared not disobey.

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“Ah Harry my dear boy, just who I was looking for,” said Dumbledore, popping out from behind the Golden Trio. Ron startled so badly his sausage flew straight off his fork, only to be caught smoothly by Dumbledore who proceeded to eat it right then and there, completely unaware of Ron’s heartbroken look.

“My sausage,” he whimpered to himself, pouting at the loss.

Hermione glared at him and gestured pointedly to the entire breakfast spread that was on the table before them.

Ron had the good sense to look abashed.

“Yes Miss Granger, I did notice,” continued Dumbledore, as if Hermione had meant to signal him rather than Ron, “Marvelous job you did with that teapot. It’s simply magnificent! Why I may have to commission one for myself! I’ve never quite managed to get that shade of purple on anything.” It was enough to make him want to sing delightedly, however, he did have some more important things to discuss than the wonderful teapot—singing would have to come later so he filed it away in his brain’s to-do list and got back to the matter at hand.

“Dear Harry, do forgive me for interrupting your breakfast, but I simply must have a word with you,” he said.

Harry wasn’t inclined to speak to Dumbledore, especially after the night he’d had, however the headmaster could not be ignored and so he reluctantly separated from his friends and followed Dumbledore back to his office.

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Meanwhile, Draco was pleased that the calming draught worked and the Professor was somewhat normal again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked, in a small voice. He didn’t know what was plaguing Professor Snape (though Madam Pomfrey had said stress but he felt there was more to it than that) but he would be an ear if one was needed, just as the Professor had been for him so many times before.

Severus sighed, he really didn’t want to recount the memory again. The shock of the fall that had woken him up had momentarily driven the previous day’s events from his mind, but the thought of Lily brought it right back. What he did was inexcusable and also, completely humiliating. It burned even more because of who exactly witnessed his breakdown.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with Draco, I’ll be okay now. I just haven’t been myself for a while. Yesterday was a particularly bad day,” he said.

“If it makes you feel any better Professor, I know the feeling,” said Draco despondently.

Genuinely worried he missed something going on with his student while he was attempting to drown his despair, he coaxed the boy into elaborating.

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Draco was reluctant to share at first; it wasn’t exactly something he was used to, but eventually he cracked.

“I...I just don’t know. Lately I’ve just been so tired. Nothing brings me joy anymore. And Crabbe and Goyle have been getting on my nerves more and more. It’s like they have one brain cell between them!” he cried in frustration. “What’s more...I,” he stopped. He wasn’t sure how to say it and certainly not how it would be received by the man in front of him.

“Go on,” Severus said, so gently that nobody would ever believe this was the same man who tormented so many on a regular basis.

“I feel like...well, I don’t really have friends do I? Not the way Saint Potter and crew do. Crabbe and Goyle follow me around but...well it seems more true what the Gryffindors call them...they do seem more like lackeys than friends. Even when I’m together with them, I still feel...alone. Father always says that it’s better to be around those less intelligent because then I’m the one in control but—”

“But you need proper companionship. Equals who can keep up with you,” Snape finished for him, “And most of all, people who actually like you for you and not your family name. Not people you have to control, but people who can actually enrich your life.” In other words, Draco was terribly lonely.

Draco just stared. He nodded, unsure of how the Professor could have read him so easily when even he didn’t know how to express the feelings he had. Did he use legilimency?

Severus sighed, “No, Draco, I can simply read the look on your face.” Draco flushed, had he been that obvious?

“More to the point,” Snape continued, “I know this because once I was also a boy with similar feelings. Unlike you however, I had that companionship. I had it and I threw it away while seeking the approval of others.” Others like your father, he left unsaid. Lily may have been his love, but she was also the best friend he ever had. Probably the only friend, if he was being honest with himself.

“Don’t be like me Draco. You asked why I was here? I was reminded lately of the very friend that I lost, and it was too much for me to bear. I am not proud of the way I have been acting but it is what it is. If you can learn from my mistakes then at least some good will have come out of my loss. Don’t wait until it’s too late. You’re at school now, the only real chance you have at making friends. Especially when considering what is going on outside of these walls,” he said meaningfully, and Draco caught his drift with a solemn nod of acknowledgment.

“I’ve never made friends without father’s approval,” Draco admitted, slightly ashamed, “I don’t even know how to make friends. People just gravitate towards me, I’ve never had to look for any.”

“Well has there never been anyone you wanted to be friends with? That your father may not have approved of but you thought you could be friends anyway?” Snape queried.

Draco blushed brightly. There was only ever one person. And he had in fact tried to befriend them, before he was sorely rejected...in favour of Weasley no less!

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snowhwing · 5 years

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Hide & Seek

[SF9 Hwiyoung X Reader]

Genre: angst; fluff Warning: grammar inaccuracies Words: 3230

“I can see you It’s hard to act like I don’t know I can see everything...”

Where Hwiyoung is part of a rising idol boy group and the two of you share a closeness that’s blossoming into romance. But there is a rumor circulating about the two of you that could ruin both of your lives…

“누나! (Nuna!)”

The idea is to avoid Kim Hwiyoung today and all the days of your life. The idea is for you to act as if he’s a stranger. Rumors about how close you two got are spreading like wildfire inside the company and tidbits of those rumors have already reached his and his group’s fans. It’s causing a stir; a boiling chaos that could ruin both you and the guy himself. Not to mention, such rumors can affect the entire boy group that he’s part of.

But said guy is making it hard for you. Whenever he’s on break or not in his studio writing songs, he would follow you around and tail you like no other. Just like today.

You turn around to face him. “Hwiyoung-ssi, what is it?”

His brows knit together for a split second but it did not last long. He is once again smiling at you. That oh-so-beautiful smile that, without you noticing, became your favorite. “Why are you so serious, nuna? Oh, never mind. I came to tell you that Chani and I are going to grab fried chicken for lunch. Do you want to come with us?”

Oh, lunch. You completely forgot about that. Before running into Hwiyoung, you just came from the CEO’s office. That is where you found out about the rumors circulating between you and Hwiyoung. The CEO did not reprimand you. You would not call it like that. Warning - that is the right term for it. You got a warning from the CEO himself. After a prelude of ‘You are an amazing employee. I would not want to lose a valuable person like you.’, the CEO explained that if things get out of control, Hwiyoung’s hard-earned career and popularity - including the group he’s part of - will go down the drain. If such a thing would happen, there would be no way for him to keep you in the company. There is no need for the CEO to tell you what you should be doing. You told him you would work on keeping distance from Hwiyoung and the rest of the members. The CEO agreed with a sigh, telling you to “do what you think is right for everybody”.

You excused yourself and left his office with thoughts running like bullet trains in your mind. How in the world can you avoid Kim Hwiyoung? Is it even possible when spending time with him feels like second nature to you now?

Do I really want to avoid him? Can I really do this?

But it’s something that you have to. You will never be able to forgive yourself if the stirring rumors about the two of you, regardless of how groundless those are, would destroy the group’s hard work and efforts. Just the thought of it is enough to make you sick. With a deep breath, you harden your resolve and set yourself to the mission. You will avoid Hwiyoung at all cost.

You got taken away from your reverie when Hwiyoung placed his hand on your head. You are a few years older than him but he is a lot taller, for sure. Patting you on the head or casually putting his arm on your shoulder are things that he can do and has been doing because he is a tower beside you.

“Nuna, are you alright? I saw you came from CEO-nim’s office. Did something happen?”

You looked up and saw him looking at you with eyes full of worry. The smile that you gave him lack warmth, even to you. You took his hand away from your head.

“I’m fine. It’s just that I’m really busy right now. The CEO gave me a new task,” you said to him. You are not lying on that part, though. Avoiding him does feel like it’s a task - for you. “It’s kind of heavy and it’s making my schedule hectic. Sorry, Hwiyoung-a. I might not be able to join you and the members for lunch in the next couple of days.”

The gentle eyes that were looking at you just a few minutes ago turned into a piercing pair of glare. “What? And you will not eat because you have a new task from the CEO?”

You knew this would not be easy. “No, I don’t mean it that way. I would have less time to hang out with you guys because of this new task. I would probably spend more time in the office and with my team because we have to plan a lot of things. I’m really sorry.”

That did not lighten up his mood. You can still see his frown. As much as you want to erase that away from his face, you held yourself still. Gone are the days when you would reach your hand out with a smile and smoothed the lines on his forehead to efface his frown. Only you can do this. Only you can stop this.

The only people who knew about the rumors are you, your manager and Youngbin - the group’s leader. The latter was very understanding of everything because he knows the truth behind your closeness with Hwiyoung. He knows that there’s only friendship - nothing more. You are friends with the other members, too. But as the group’s leader, he is also firm on his stand that the rumor has to end.

“I’ll just bring you food from time to time, Nuna. That’s fine, right?”

You put on a straight face and looked at him directly. “Ya! I told you I would be busy. Me and my team will be in the office most of the time so we’ll just eat there. I can handle myself, Hwiyoung-a. You will be busy, too. You guys will start your tour next week. Focus on that.”

You clenched your hands tightly when he turned and walked away from you.

That’s right, Hwiyoung. Stay away from me.

—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—

“There are rumors circulating around. Those rumors are about you and Y/N nuna. If you really care about her and our group, you will keep your distance. Snap out of it and pull yourself together, Hwiyoung.”

The idea is to absorb all of these in one go. That way he would not have to deal with the confusion and shock that he is feeling right now. He felt like a bomb just exploded in front of him and there is nothing he can do but to stand there and watch everything dissolve into ashes. The fact that he had no idea what was going on has left him staggering. All the dizziness that he has been feeling from traveling from one country to another, adjusting to different time zones and getting used to eating food that doesn’t taste like anything from home just disappeared. What’s making him dizzy now is the news that Youngbin told him.

Rumors.

People working in the entertainment industry all know how terrifying rumors are. Those can either make or break your career and you as a person. Most of the time, the breaking happens and not the other way around. Rumors can destroy artists, taint the name of the agency handling them and, more often than not, leaves a stigma to the people that those artists work with. It’s insane how things work that way but that’s just how it is in their world. Boy group members just like him may be involved or tagged to any sorts of rumors but their management would usually put emphasis on one yet very crucial kind - a dating rumor.

A dry laugh escaped from him as he slowly processed what Youngbin told him. There is a dating rumor associated to him now. This is no longer something that involves his looks and his talents. These rumors can affect not just him but his fellow group members. Everything is slowly sinking in and he remembered how Youngbin called everybody to gather inside the Warsaw practice room. You have no idea how annoyed he was because he’s already really sleepy and tired. You have no idea how he was so excited that practice is over because he can finally pick up his phone and send you another message no matter how the previous ones that he sent are still left unread and unanswered. You have no idea how much he misses you. But Youngbin looked dead serious when he called everybody over after he made sure that they all had finished eating the food served for dinner. Everybody must have felt the tension emanating from their leader because nobody, not even the crazy trio of Inseong, Dawon and Jaeyoon, made a joke when they finally settled inside the room. Few minutes had passed before Youngbin spoke.

The rumors have reached the upper management, the managers handling their group and you. The task that you mentioned must have been the order of the management for you to stay away from him. You declined his invitation to have lunch with him and Chani that day because you took it to yourself to avoid him immediately. He finally understood how all that you said were just alibis so that he wouldn’t go near you. But then, are those really just alibis? Come to think of it, how come it was so easy for you to stay away from him? The rumors involve both of you but you chose to keep it to yourself by not telling him. He immediately feel like a fool.

Was he just imagining the connection that the two of you have? Everything that you shared together - the late night jaunts to saunas only to buy sikhye and hard boiled eggs after a hard day of music show preparations, the black barley drink you usually leave in his studio whenever he’s inside the practice room with the boys, the weekend nights when you would always give way to his relentless pestering of going to that karaoke place near the office - were all those just figments of his imagination?

He loves you. He really, really loves you. It’s true that he denied that realization over and over, even to himself. But after a few weeks of alternately drinking soju and makgeolli with Taeyang and Chani, he finally admitted to himself that he is in love with you. He falls in love with you every single day. He falls in love with the way your eyes sparkle whenever he lets you listen to unfinished demo songs that he made. He falls in love with you when your face lights up with simple things like that time when Dawon gave you a huge fluff of cotton candy on a stick and that weekend when Youngbin handed that pack of marshmallow over to you. He falls in love with you whenever you softly sing while arranging segment papers, thinking that nobody is listening. He falls in love with you when you listen with rapt attention whenever he talks about how hard rap making is for that particular verse. He falls in love with you whenever he sees that proud look on your face when he belts out high notes after high notes even if he messes up the song in the end. He falls in love with you even on your bad days - when you just give him a nod and a half-heart bow because you are not in the mood. He falls in love with you because you are you. Those little things made you a whole package that made it impossible for him not to love.

He did not instantly got drawn to you the first time he saw you. There was no immediate pull. It was not love at first sight. When you entered the practice room that day, just right after they finished practicing the choreography for Now or Never, he saw you as a simple and unassuming girl. Your hair was tied up in a ponytail with some strands falling on each side of your face, framing it. You were wearing a tee shirt and denim jeans with a clipboard in hand. You carried yourself with just the right amount of confidence but how you inhaled deep breaths a couple of times did not go unnoticed. After you greeted and told them your name, he mused how the whole room lit up when you smiled. Right then and there, he admitted that you have one of the most beautiful smiles he has ever seen. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months and bit by bit, Hwiyoung got to know you.

He knew that as much as you love snow and claimed that Winter is your favorite season, you easily get cold and complain about it. That you love eating tteokbokki but would give up after one serving because it’s just too spicy. That you pout your lips whenever you are thinking hard. That you would rather spend working until the wee hours of morning just so you can finish the work assigned to you. That you never raise your voice under pressure whenever things get hectic in music shows and guesting despite the fact that your hands grow cold as ice when the nerves take over you. That you prefer wearing flats rather than heels because comfort matters more to you than style. That you always insist that there’s no need for you to wear something fashionable, except on special occasions, because you’re working in the backstage anyway.

Those careful observations, those little details made him fall for you. Those things made you real. Those traits made you lovable. And in all those times that he has spent with you, he felt solace. Knowing that after working amidst the glitz and glamour of the entertainment industry, you are right behind the stage, waiting for them - for him - with a smile on your face.

But now, he’s thinking if he just imagined all those. The obvious connection between the two of you. How in sync you both are with each other. How you can communicate with each other even from across the room without saying a word.

People around him are telling him to sit still. Even Inseong, who has been his constant confidante, told him that he has to lay low. That he really needs to stay away from you. But staying still is the farthest thing in his mind. Right now, all he wants to do is to go to where you are and clear things out. Not about the rumors, but about who he really is for you.

But how can he, when he was told to sit still?

—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—

[1 Message Received]

The idea is to hold yourself together and not crack any time soon. You closed your eyes tight when you heard your phone beeped for the fifth time today. Yes, you counted. Since the day Hwiyoung left for Chicago for their group’s tour, you have been counting the number of times your phone buzzed and vibrated whenever you receive a message or a call from him. No, if you have to be honest, you have been counting since that day when you lied to him about the task that the CEO gave you just so you can avoid him.

There are few things in life that you find difficult to stay away - coffee, electric fan over air-conditioner, odeng and cold sweet tea. But you would be willing to trade and stay away from all those if it means you can spend time with Hwiyoung once again. It has been weeks. It has been weeks and it has been hard. You made a pact to yourself that you will never, by any means, open and read any messages; much more answer calls from him. You toughen your resolve and hardened yourself even though it felt like in doing so, you are expiring. You miss Kim Hwiyoung. You miss the man you love.

Funny how all these time, you thought that you will never get attracted and most of all, fall in love with a younger man. You’ve had your fair share of dates and those had always been with men older than you. You firmly believed that older men are more mature, know how to carry themselves and have a great sense of responsibility. Until Kim Hwiyoung came and proved you wrong.

Hwiyoung made your heart flutter because he sees and perceives life beyond his age. His perception and thoughts about serious matters, for you, are attractive. You can still remember that time when you were one of the staff who accompanied him and Chani on their break time. How he gazed outside the window and spoke, addressing no one in particular, about how some people in the country must be struggling and working hard just for them to survive everyday. Hwiyoung made your heart flutter when he shares his world, bit by bit, to you. How his hands, though unnoticeable for some, trembled those times he asked you listen to demo songs. Whenever he smiles unguarded and how his entire aura changes when he does. Whenever he gets excited every time you send over a bottle of black barley drink and a bowl of jajangmyeon over to his studio knowing that he sometimes forgets to eat because he gets too immersed in creating music. Your heart flutters whenever you see the burning passion he has when it comes to his craft and how he fervently loves his group members even though he does not show it often. Your heart fluttered that windy day when you were wearing a skirt and you had to accompany him to a shoot. The wind was really bad that day and you were having a hard time holding your skirt when suddenly, he held your hand to stop you from walking. You can still remember how your heart beat like crazy back then. Hwiyoung then took one of his bracelets and went down on one knee to tie one end of your skirt to keep it from being blown by the wind. How you endured the relentless teasing of your fellow staff members because they said you went bright red while looking at Hwiyoung then.

And now, after spending so much time with him, you have to stay away.

You have to stay away because you love him. And loving him means loving the world that he is a part of and the people in it. Loving the world that he is part of means accepting everything including the harsh realities that his world has. You have to stay still because if you do something, anything, you will break. And if that happens, all your efforts in staying away from him will be for nothing.

When you heard your phone buzzed with a different ring tone, you answered it right away.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N!” It’s her manager. “Thank goodness I’m able to reach you.”

“Manager-nim, is something wrong?”

“Get yourself ready. You will be joining the reliever team for SF9’s Berlin concert. You will leave with our team tomorrow afternoon.”

A loud clap of thunder - she felt like her ear turned deaf. “What? Why?”

“I am not supposed to send you there but Hyejin got sick. And there’s no extra person in our team to replace her.”

“But- But, manager-nim, Hwiyoung is - …”

“Yes, I know, Y/N. But we have no choice. You will fly for Berlin tomorrow.”

Life could not be this messed up, could it?

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Part II - Round & Round

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