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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)

a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity! ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.

Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.

Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.

It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.

“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.

December 31st

A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.

Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.

Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.

“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.

The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.

“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.

Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.

“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.

Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.

It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.

Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.

He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.

“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.

“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.

He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.

“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.

“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.

The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.

“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.

“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.

“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”

“How do you know him?”

Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.

“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”

Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Y’ don’t like to go out?”

“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.

The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.

Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.

The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.

He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.

Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.

“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.

They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.

Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.

Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.

“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.

Then the countdown begins.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”

Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.

“Seven!... Six!...”

Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.

“Five!... Four!...”

She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.

“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”

The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.

Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.

Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.

He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.

The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.

She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.

The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.

“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.

One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.

Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.

After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.

“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.

The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.

“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.

“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”

The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”

Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?

“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”

Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”

“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.

“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.

He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.

He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?

She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.

When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.

“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.

“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.

“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”

“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.

“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.

Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.

Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.

There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.

Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.

His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.

How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.

As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.

The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.

Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.

“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.

“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.

“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.

“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.

“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.

He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.

He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.

He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.

Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.

“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.

“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.

“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.

“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.

“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.

“Harry, that’s… not the case.”

“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.

“Mommy! I want this!”

At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.

“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”

It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.

“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.

He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he blurts out.

“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”

“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.

“What?”

“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.

“No, we were never even married.”

He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.

“Okay, it’s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.

“You thought I was married?”

“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.

“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.

“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”

“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”

“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.

“Because of Benji, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.

“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”

“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.

“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”

“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.

“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.

“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.

She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.

“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”

“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes.”

Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.

“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”

“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”

She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.

And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.

The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.

“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”

“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”

Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.

“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.

Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.

“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.

“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”

Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.

“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?” Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.

“Of course I did!” she sighs.

“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”

“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.

“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.

“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.

“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.

The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.

“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.

Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.

Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”

They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.

“I really don’t know…” she sighs.

“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”

“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”

Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.

Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.

“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.

“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.

“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”

“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”

Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.

“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”

Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.

“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”

“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.

“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”

“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”

“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.

Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.

“What?”

“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.

“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.

“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”

His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.

“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”

“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.

“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”

“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”

“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.

“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”

“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.

“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.

“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”

“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”

A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.

“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.

They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.

“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”

“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”

“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”

They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@stylesfics-xx @dontworrysunflower @mariamuses @bookwormandtea

#harry #harry styles #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x oc #harry styles serendipity #harry styles serendipity series #serendipity series #serendipity

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candyopala · 3 years

Text

Stuck in his ways, chapter 3

Chapter summary: Y/N hit her head, will everything be okay? Obito struggles.

Words: 1.4k

AO3

Please reblog or leave a like if you enjoy <3

Shit, shit, shit! She hit her head, why did she pass out of nowhere?

Obito knew he was not cut for babysitting jobs, but he would not have imagined that he would end up fucking it up so bad. Yeah, he was trying to get rid of the girl so that he could go back to his usual missions, but he had not planned anything like this.

Ok, she still has a pulse at least, but her breathing is too slow. Classic case of chakra exhaustion. But did she even use that many jutsu? He only saw that one chakra punch, nothing else, not even a single clone or substitution jutsu. How can she be already exhausted?

He tries his best to infuse his chakra into her, even if his medical jutsu is mediocre at best, he only recalls the basics that Ri-she taught him.

Y/N looks peaceful, but this situation still sends chills up on Obito’s spine. He was supposed to take care of this girl, but he failed her, he failed someone again. Yet again, someone dies in his arms and this time he is actively guilty for it. Images of the rivers of blood of that night flash through his mind.

His sharingan records Y/N’s face while she sleeps without his knowledge due to the immense stress this is causing him. He hyperventilates, he gets desperate and he struggles to calm back down. This is different from when a partner gets hurt in his usual missions: this is his fault. Why did he have to test her like that?

As a shinobi he should be used to death surrounding him, it is the way of this world. A world that he promised to change when he saw his friend die, a world that he vowed to bring peace to when he, Kakashi and Minato killed Madara and Zetsu. And that was a promise he seeks to achieve by becoming the next Hokage… but what kind of Hokage fails to save his friends and subordinates?

After doing what he can to stabilize Y/N, he picks her up on his lap. He is afraid of carrying her back to the village, since moving her body too much could cause a broken bone to perforate nearby organs and such.

As a ninja, he knows he has to finish this mission, but as a person, he feels that something tells him to take care of this girl. Of course, she is rude, proud, bratty and inconsequential, he has only spent three hours beside her and both cannot stand each other, but he just feels… no… anyway, he just needs to make sure she does not get herself killed… if she even wakes up after this.

Looking at the top of the trees, he sees a lonely bird flying aimlessly from branch to branch, no partner in sight. He closes his eye in anger.

“Fuck… how long have I been out for?”

Glancing down Obito sees that Y/N has regained conscience and is even moving around a little bit. She seems confused by the close proximity between them, looking back and forward to his arm holding her and his face.

Flustered and suddenly very self-conscious, Obito places her back on the ground, distancing his gaze from hers, embarrassed from having been so visibly worried.

“For a couple of minutes. You hit your head though, so we have to make sure you don’t fall asleep again”

“Well, I’m a grown up gal, I can take care of myself, besides, you seem too worried for someone who was just dropkicking me minutes after we met”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit; I’m just doing good on my mission. Are you feeling any pain?”

“Nope, good as new. I’m heading to my apartment, see ya crepp”

With this Y/N tries to get up, only to unbalance herself and fall back on her butt on the ground. Obito makes a show of rolling his only eye as visibly as possible in annoyance. He gets up himself and extends his hand to her to help her get up.

Did I throw stones at some temple in another life to deserve this?

As if trying to check for people around, Y/N takes her time before accepting the Uchiha’s help. With a grunt, she is up, but she shows no capability of being able to sustain her own weight, so Obito puts her arm over his shoulders for balance.

“Hold on tight”

~”~

If having to walk around the village with dirt all over her face, body and hair wasn’t enough, Y/N just had to be paraded around draped onto some dude. He did smell nice, even after that earlier scuffle they had. Yes, the scuffle! How could she forget? She caught the bells all right, but she passed out right after. He is certainly taking her to pack her things and kick her out of the leaf.

“Are you… Am I getting kicked out?”

“What? No, I have no power to do that”

She almost falls on her back again as she begins to violently gesture at the Uchiha. Of course he was bluffing, why wouldn’t him?

“You fucker! I knew it!”

“Calm down princess, we’ll talk after you get out of the hospital, stop making a fool out of yourself in the middle of the street, right?”

“Hospital? No fucking way sir! I want to go back to my apartment, and make a plan on how to torture you until the end of time-”

“Sure, sure, like you could actually make my life even worse” He says as he lets out a dry laugh

Y/N actually knows that she should go check that head injury, but it’s not like she would ever admit that to the Uchiha, so she just lets him guide her to the village hospital. Arriving there, Obito leaves her with the nurses that from beyond that point put her through a gigantic set of exams.

If the tons of prodding in the process of joining the village weren’t enough, she now goes through the night taking CAT-scans and having sensors stuck in her head with some nasty jelly in them. She will never forgive Obito for this whole situation. Yeah, she should not have gone through with techniques she knew would be too extreme, but she just had to show to him what she was made of, after all, no one has the right to talk to her like that.

As she ponders about her mean mentor, the nurse comes back with some bad news: she might have a concussion, so she must not sleep for 24 hours at least, just to make sure it doesn’t evolve into a coma or something of sorts.

This is, again, all Obito’s fault.

Yeah, he’ll pay, for sure. But how?

Instantly, a small light turns on over her head. Staying up for that long would for sure be a challenge all by herself; she doesn’t even have her tv installed yet, for fucks sake. She should find herself a companion for the next hours, someone that can entertain her. What’s more entertaining than torturing an asshole?

It must be at least three in the morning when Y/N reaches the Uchiha district. She has searched over ten house’s windows at this point, but no Mr. Creep in sight, that is, until she reaches her final destination. It’s a small but charming wooden house, clearly very old in age but very well taken care of. As she looks into a small window at the back she sees a man with his back turned and the infamous eyepatch bandana sitting over the bedside table.

That’s it!

After carefully checking, she sees that the man lives alone. Good, he’s single. Wait, why is that good? To see that I’m not intruding some poor family’s house, sure! That’s all, ok? Anyway, Y/N opens the window slowly and climbs into the room, which is surprisingly tidy and clean.

Obito sleeps soundly in the bed in the middle of the room, with his belly facing down and sprawled all over the numerous sheets that cover him. Quickly heading to the kitchen, Y/N grabs a saucer and a big spoon, banging both of them against each other as she waltz into the room again.

“Wake the fuck up, Obito Uchiha!” she screams as she bangs the pan and laughs hysterically.

Her joy is cut short when she stumbles upon the following scenario: Obito jumps up from his bed, standing confused with sleeping wrinkles all over his left side and wearing only boxers.

“Huh…”

#Obito #Obito Uchiha #obito x reader #obito x you #obito uchiha x y/n #obito uchiha x reader #naruto fanfiction

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 28

“Hey Richy Rich,” you said with your phone on the bed on speaker as you stood one legged hunched over removing your shoes.

In a chuckle he asked, “Juggling with your shoes again,”

“This zipper, hates me.” Even Lee chuckled while easing his tie looser and you asked, “How is England? Perfectly misty?”

“Yes, you are missing the morning moors, my Love. So, tell me how the film went. And I will be expecting reactions from Lee as well.” Stirring a smirk onto his face being included.

All through the film was shared as you changed into sweats and a sweater with thick fuzzy socks added while Lee had sweats and a t shirt ending up sitting beside you flipping through the muted tv channels for something to fall asleep to. “So what are the plans after this?”

“Well I was heading back to the apartment for some more lounging time but Lee keeps trying to goad me to Canada to try out for a spot on his show starting in January.”

Richard, “Ooh, where does that film?”

Lee smirked answering, “By Niagara Falls.”

Richard, “My film is shooting near there, and a bit farther north, but you should give it a go we could get a place by his. Scope it out.”

Rolling your eyes to Lee’s beaming grin you said, “I’m counting this as a coup.”

Richard chuckled, “You know you’d end up at one of our sets either way, if they are needing actors best get paid for your time anyways.”

“Fine, I will try out for the girl who talks to inanimate objects.”

Lee, “You will love the show. It’s more than just that.”

From cuddled up in your own beds to the credits when Richard had long since hung up sleep was hoarded as long as possible until Lee grumbled through picking up the wake up call and warning they would call the taxi for you. Smiling at his hitting the button in your Polaroid to capture your mess of arms and curls right before the struggle to get up out of bed would ensue.

Airport breakfast came with his frozen grin locked your way making you say, “I said I’d audition, don’t you go getting excited like I already got the part.”

“Well, when we land I’ll give them a call see when the next open audition is and we can head up for you to see my place.”

“How is it?”

“It is a palace compared to my place in New York.” Making you giggle, “Two bedrooms with a bath and kitchen, separate, with hot water and a few closets.”

“Look at you all fancy.” Making him chuckle again.

“Still only has an inflatable mattress but I could spring for some lawn chairs for company.”

“How little we actually need when we are just starting out.”

“No doubt with Richard you could afford something much bigger.”

“We don’t need bigger. I have bigger.”

That had him laugh and you giggle as he said, “You have a bed and a half.”

“And a bath and a half, plus closet and sitting room with living and seating room. Little mansion of my own. See, bigger. When would I ever find another like it. You buy a penthouse you got to clean a penthouse.”

“Ugh, just keeping the mildew off the tiles in my kitchen shower is hard enough.”

“Have you tried that mint soap I told you about?”

“Couldn’t find it.”

“Mmm, I’ll show you when we get back.”

Waves from a few of the workers in the diner you’d chosen had you grinning in one of the young ladies timid trot over holding the same magazine you’d posed in the last time you came to California. “Could you sign this?” Just about turned to tears at her lack of a pen until you shook your head reaching into your carry on bag bringing one out that you almost giggled through the half paragraph of a message she wanted. Back again she hurried squealing to her excited friends showing it off as you finished up eating through Lee’s hushed chuckles and muttered comments. Once on your feet to throw trash away turning for the doorway however found a few more workers on their breaks with scattered bits of paper and old newspapers for you to sign for them as well along with Lee. Who after a confirmation of his drop in on Law and Order took turns with your pen as well bashfully scribbling his name for the small crowd that scattered as fast as it had gathered freeing you back to your gate.

Loudly a shriek had you gripping Lee’s arm and a woman hurried over, “Milla Jovovich!”

Once at your side she shoved a magazine in your palms you looked to then up again, “No-,”

“Oh my gosh I can’t wait until all my friends hear I ran into you!!”

Instantly her phone was on and she was calling some woman named Timberlie and you glanced up at Lee asking softly, “How do you spell that name?”

Lee shrugged and you rolled your eyes marking an M followed by a squiggle and the same after what could either be a J or a Y to be safe. Timidly onto the half wall behind her on her pacing around the gate you left the magazine and marker and backed away creeping to the check in gate leaving her to her fantasy encounter. With a grin you reached into your bag to hand over your boarding passes to the just about giggling woman behind the counter who read your name and you asked, “Do I look like Milla Jovovich?”

“I mean, I guess, if you kinda close your eyes a bit. Ignore the hair and the eyes, and I think she’s taller. And not so, curvy.”

“Thought so.”

Lee, “Was she the one in that space film with Bruce Willis?”

“I think that was her name.”

Lee looked you over and said, “They got the Russian part right. Hmm, fun times.”

“Not for her when she finds out.”

Making the woman chuckle and pass your tickets back, “I don’t think that matters, Honey. Just made her year it seems. Either way should be boarding soon. She’s up in first class so she won’t bother you.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, honey.”

Once in the seats you sighed and looked to Lee asking, “I’m guessing you have your script with you?”

His smile split wider and in the tucking of your legs onto the seat with knees laid across his leg closest to yours. Scoring closer he passed you the script saying, “Just the one for the pilot, but it’s so good. Just ignore the post its.”

Into your palms the script for Wonderfalls settled and you cracked the cover page hearing the woman squealing to her friend that you were reading a script making the woman behind the counter wonder who you might actually be as she didn’t recognize your name or face exactly. “I work in the gift shop, nice. Tons of retail background.” Making Lee chuckle as you turned from the first page, commenting on first how you got he powers and smiling as oh smirked at the actions the little figurine told you to take to ‘save the day’ as others would in various situations throughout the show.

A call to board had you holding a finger in the script page folded around it as Lee grabbed both your carry on bags following you back to the desk once pretty much everyone else was boarded. Letting you take up your seat in the back of the plane so very far from the woman up front no doubt having expected to have been seated near you. Five hours two bags of pretzels and tiny cans of v8 later and you sighed relenting to Lee after he’d shared from his post it packed notebook on all he’d studied up on the subject his character had his degree in centered around religions of the world that comes into question when he learns about what gift his sister now has. To his puppy dog stare you sighed out, “It does sound like it’d be fun. Doubt I’d have to do much romancing in it.”

“Oh you’ll have a crush, I think, at best a date. No throwing down in this show from what we were told except for my character and Tracy.”

“Wow,” Making him chuckle bashfully.

“Just a shirtless post tryst scene. She agreed to bra and quick pop into jeans after. I will be wearing pants. Just a few make out scenes after so many episodes of rivaling banter.”

“I do love a good enemies to lovers tale.” Making him smile again, “So, who am I crushing on? How does he look? Am I going for muscle head or average joe with a heart of gold or do I have to gag through the falling for the bad boy cliche?”

“I think, joe? He’s not too muscular. Tyron Leitso, he kind of looks a bit like me, blue eyes though. Ooh, he was in Dinotopia, the one breaking all the rules.”

“Ok, haven’t seen that one yet.” you said with a nod. “But I can always pester him with my Dino knowledge, good.” Making him chuckle again.

“Yes we can see that when we get back, I have a copy of the tapes, and our sister is blonde,”

“Bit of a mish mash family picture we have.”

“Yes, she doesn’t like either of us very much but likes me more for having accomplished something.”

“Nice,” you replied through a giggle.

“Apparently also secretly gay.”

“Ooh,” Making him chuckle again, “That should be an interesting twist. Hope we bond over the fact I’m not going to be a dick bout that.”

“Not sure yet. There is some bonding. Mostly you’ll be working with me, which was why it was so stunning the other actress dropped out, sort of leaves me hanging.”

“Must be a very tall tree,” you teased making him smirk again in easing his tray table up while you slid your bag back under your seat readying for the landing he took your hand for.

“Ha ha.”

Outside the gate you exited through following the crowd to the packed halls back out to the familiar luggage claim you kept to his side hoping that lady wouldn’t follow trying to ask you more about a woman you could barely recall the face of in your mind outside of her makeup covered self.

Just the eyes stuck, yet with bags on your backs to the shuttle you went passing the flashes of cameras that went off in your exit you and Lee gave quick grins to and continued along. Apparently one of those friends had called the press and after your semi known self was photographed by a couple of the cameramen the others waited murmuring about the better known actress they didn’t realize was coming to New York. You would have giggled if you hadn’t known that a few of those guys lived off those paydays and missing out could be bad for them if they didn’t make it up somehow with another find.

With burgers and fries across a towel laid out on your bed you watched the films on your vhs player refusing to move the tv to the sitting room only to have to move it back later. “He did not just quote Queen,” Lee chuckled around his mouthful and you groaned, “Ugh, and she bought it.”

A bit later you grinned at the ping pong scene, “Aww, Zippo. Now I’m going to have dreams about Dinos for weeks. Cyrus and the Lord Mayor, have to add them to my dream costar list.”

“I think Capt Oonu should narrate books. Such a great voice.” You giggled as he said, “I would listen to whatever he narrated.”

“Rosemary, I’ve seen her in something. The face isn’t clicking but I’ve heard her voice before. And it’s just picking at me.”

“Same as Zippo, I’ve heard that voice.”

Hours you watched the films then to the sunrise you caught his eye and he asked, “Did you want to go pick up our tickets?”

That had you giggling, “You want to leave today?” He blinked at you and you sighed, “Just a day trip or should I bring a bag?”

“Just a day trip.”

You shook your head and sighed, “You could have said something at the airport.”

“But I had to get my package from the desk.” That had you giggle and say, “Alright, let me at least change my shirt.” You said heading to the closet tugging the t shirt off to pull on a clean spaghetti strap tank top you put on under a nicer t shirt not coated in sun stains, though both kept inching up over your middle causing you to grab a baggy flannel and your jacket. Hastily you brushed your teeth as he did the same using his kit from his bag you dropped at his place on the way down along with his package from his grandma out in Oklahoma he would unwrap later. Grabbing a book to go through you added to your bag along with a spare resume and headshot you shouldered. The apartment was locked up and down you went to meet him in the lobby where he hung up from his call to the office for the show he confirmed an open audition was going to be started by the time you got there.

“Will they be open at least or will we be absurdly early?”

“They are open, bit curious why I called about it, they did ask if I’d be up to being there for some run throughs last week. Said I was on my way up.”

“Nice,” you teased through his chuckle on your joint way out of the building back into the chilly air bound for chillier weather off to the airport again. Widely you grinned to the man behind the counter you had waved to on his way in as you were on the way out with narrowed eyes trying to figure out on his own why you were back so soon. “Got ambushed with a request to go to Canada.”

“Is that so,” he said flatly shifting his hands to type up the flights off to Canada. “We have one in thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He looked you over accepting your cash and ID for the ticket and you giggled saying, “Don’t worry, this is my second to last flight today.”

“You want a round trip then?”

“Um, I’m not entirely sure when I’ll be coming back tonight, or how long this audition will take. So no thank you, I’ll just have to pester them to fly me back at their desk.”

That had him chortle and roll his eyes, “I swear, you are here more than me sometimes.”

“Just wait till December, no doubt they’ll hang up my picture, number one customer right here.” You giggled out taking the ticket and cards he passed you back guiding you along to the security desk where the guard outside gave you the same giggle inducing once over.

“Don’t you have a home?” He teased taking your bag for the box to scan as you undid your belt to add to the box along with the odd combination of coins and a weird bottle cap you found earlier.

Lee chuckled and said, “My fault, she’s helping me on a show I’m filming with in January. Last minute drop out we need a new female lead.”

The guard said after you passed through the metal detector, “Two kids your age should not be flying this much. I couldn’t afford baseball tickets when I was your age.”

“Ooh, but my Grandpa got me this credit card, I get miles now.”

“Miles,” the other guard chuckled out shaking his head helping Lee through the detector.

The excited smile on your face had him shaking his head and you giggling, “Don’t miss your flight. And hurry back to get some sleep.”

“I’m on vacation till December after this, tons of time to sleep.”

“And I best not see either of you till then.” He called back as you both filled your pockets and hurried off with bags in hand to your gate in time to check in and file in for a mid plane seat this time.

One hour didn’t seem very long at all as once the wheels came up your head tapped his arm and you were blinking awake at his gentle nudge awake when the call for landing was given. The time skip showing how tired you didn’t realize you were. Still a ruffle of your loose curls you twisted up into an unrestrained ponytail you let go of for a moment of cool air on your neck and up you stood joining everyone else for the file out of the plane following Lee who had commandeered your bag as if to force a hostage situation.

Just a simple call warning he was coming and outside the airport was a driver who was on the phone, apparently passing on the news Lee was here shockingly with a guest. A bit confused he opened the door for Lee, who let you in first to follow after leaving the driver muttering about what you looked like. Softly you asked, “You did tell them I was coming, right?”

“Nope,” he said with a smile making you scoff and shake your head turning it to look up the window as the driver hopped in and hung up.

“Off to the studio we go!” He said cheerfully but stole yet another glance at you in the mirror.

Breaking the silence Lee said, “Tracy is gonna flip seeing you again.” Drawing your eyes to him with brow arched up. “Oh don’t, I told people I knew you when you won the Tony and were all over the press and I got so many stares like I was lying.”

“So you just show up with me?” You giggled out earning a nod from him in return before his huff and slide closer to let you lean against his chest through a peck on your forehead. “Incorrigible.”

“Always.” He said settling his cheek on top of your head settling in for the forty minute drive.

“You did not bring Jaqi Pear!” The voice was loud and clear from Tracy who was walking out of the studio office. Lee was blocking the view of his guest for the curious secretary peering through the window on the door behind Tracy who was tasked with finding out who Lee had brought and if they were meant to entertain them or not.

Once out Lee smiled saying, “Hey Tracy, look who I brought.”

Stepping aside for you to hop out making her let out an excited squeal of a sound closing the distance for a hug luring another face possibly of a producer to watch the scene playing on whose mouth dropped recognizing you from the premier Lee was photographed at they learned of the night prior. “Girl! I have not seen you since you graduated early abandoning us all for Broadway!” She pulled back at your soft giggle smiling as she said, “Now you have to tell me how you buy a sweater and end up with nine jobs!”

You giggled again saying, “It wasn’t nine, felt like it, but most of them were small. Extra blips.”

“I saw About a Boy, you were no blip.”

“I didn’t know it was that big! I was love interest number four! When do any of Hugh’s flings in his films get more than a blip when they’re not big names?”

She chuckled and Lee said in a nod of his head to the door, “I think we should go inside,”

Tracy said poking him in the side, “You! They were on their heads for a while wondering who you brought out here with you, please tell me you’re auditioning.” Smiling was her answer at the anxious vanishing act of your voice and she let out another giddy squeal guiding you to the door, “Oh this is going to be perfect. You have no idea, just no idea, two girls so far, a Barbie doll and an amazon woman built more for the Terminator than an adorable quirky show about a girl who talks to inanimate objects. Neither of which stayed for the full interview when they asked if there was a nude scene like they had been told.”

“Wow,”

“Well there’s three in the list for their first interview then they take turns with me, now Lee too, for the second.”

Once through the door the secretary smiled hurrying back to her desk after the producer had turned pretending to fix a clock mounted to the wall he couldn’t manage to hang again he hid behind a potted plant in the corner to follow your group to the desk where Tracy said in a point to you, “She’s auditioning.”

The secretary nodded and passed you the clipboard as you turned saying, “Oh go on, you two have work to do. I know this part so stop hovering you’ve caused enough drama Lee.”

Tracy smiled and turned seeing the producer taking wider side steps to catch up to the pair and ask about your wanting to try out for the part. Into an empty chair you sat crossing your legs for a desk to fill out the papers you turned in with the headshot and resume she paper clipped together and hurried in to the next room to the next stunned producer who showed it to the director as the girl in front of them took a breath readying for her scene. Through the wall you could hear loud awkward readings of the lines timed like a metronome in a flat tone possibly signaling she was throwing this audition or simply this was her first time. Looking to your book unlike the other girls watching the beaming girl strut her way out past who you would assume to be her gawking mother you bit back your smirk propping an arm up on the arm of your chair soon covered with your loose curls that had the other straight haired girls stealing lingering stares your way wondering why you and your apparently grungy self had come to try for this part to be lead in this show. They got called back however and both came out to be called in to the second reads while you finished off another chapter in The Way We Live Now, still stuck in your classic mood for novels to just wallow in missing your cuddle happy Richard so far from you.

“Miss Pear?” Closing the book you grinned at the friendly producer’s aid calling you back watching you add the book to your bag you brought with you into the first office you could just imagine Lee and Tracy pinning their ears to the wall between that and the second they were in to hear how this would go.

The bag was left on the seat and you looked over the sheet the producer handed you and to the camera the aid was manning you read off the snarky monologue you recognized from the script you borrowed from Lee all about the perils of working retail in the Niagara Falls gift shop. By the third line the Producer had his eyes fixed on you and missed his line the aid read for him making him stutter glance her way only to have you pick up again for a rude interaction with a guy who refuses to buy anything after asking you a bunch of questions about a video playing in the shop.

Smiling again from the scoffing shake of your head to the imaginary back of the fleeing customer as you leaned into the chair standing in for the counter they had asked you to use. The page was handed back and moving your bag at his throat clearing in his hand gesture to sit you did settling on one of your bent legs to not be too terribly short across from the pair. “Do you have experience in retail? That seems, very authentic.”

Mid giggle you replied, “Yes, years of it, waitressing to working in shops to get through school to pay what was left on my tuition after scholarships.”

“Yes,” he said looking to your resume, “This says you went to Oxford and Julliard?”

“Yes, I got accepted into Oxford first, mainly for science, my dad said I had to have a backup plan, then my audition, word got back to me I was approved for Julliard too. Bit unusual but I mastered in both Drama, Arts and Science for my degrees.”

After a moment he wet his lips and asked, “How did you hear about this part?”

“Lee, um, I got two roles in two different horror films and my Mate hates to watch horror films in the theater so I asked Lee to go with me instead. He asked if I’d come to check out his apartment out here for the show and the role came up. It’s really a unique idea for a show, had to at least give it an audition.”

“You know Lee well?”

“He’s my best friend, he started at Julliard in my second year,” you answered with a grin making his split wider, “And I believe Tracy was in my year. I kept my head down for most of my first year, I was under five feet still and just didn’t have he energy for comments on that between classes.”

“And, there are, some interesting roles on here. Since your lead role on Broadway you’ve been mainly extras?”

“Yes, I, see I have a habit of being a last minute addition.” Causing his brow to tick up, “For Chicago on Broadway it was a couple weeks before the show was to go on that my teacher, who was choreographing it, tipped my name to the Director and head producers that I could fill in. I got back from Christmas holiday break in England to New York where they had a bunch of films recasting their extras so I got a stack of auditions. The Lord of the Rings was really the only one I got auditioning the old fashioned way and I got that for stunt and body doubling work under pounds of prosthetics. Other than my last film which I got for my ballet and musical training.”

“You’re not limiting yourself to simply musical or dance based roles then?”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, “No Chicago was just one of my two musical ones with this last film I did.”

“And you feel you could hold the lead role in a tv show? I see this would be your first one.”

“I would be lying if I said I couldn’t hold the weight of it. I give all my projects my all and I don’t imagine filming a tv show would be any less work than for a film, I might not have been your first choice but I won’t let the Producers or Director down.”

“I don’t doubt that, Tony award, plus our other Producer saw your spot in Enough. Went on about how the purple eyed girl could have been given a larger spot to fit the talent.” Holding back your smirk you nodded as he asked, “Why do you think Lee would have thought you perfect for this?”

“We get on amazingly, so it wouldn’t be hard to melt into a good chemistry for scenes, including any sort of familiarity in moving around one another like siblings would depending on how small the sets are made for their childhood household. I suppose also for the retail bit he knows I’d be able to have experience no doubt on unruly customers or how people tend to distract themselves while alone working in a store.”

“Really,” he said with a grin, “How did you entertain yourself working alone?”

“Until Lee got there I would recite from books I’d read a million times until the store emptied then I had audio books I put into the boom box at the store until the guy filling paper goods shouted for some music or he’d fall asleep. Then of course I’d blast opera or the classic musical tapes I had.” Making him chuckle at your smirk, “Then Lee started there and I had someone to rehearse with or just chat on in circles through the night to keep him awake while he got used to working nights and going to school.”

“How do you think Lee or Tracy would take it if we were to choose against you?”

“They’ll survive.” You giggled out, “Honestly it wouldn’t really change anything my Mate has a film he’ll be working on in Canada while you are filming out here so I could still spend time with them and hear how everything is going.”

“Oh,” his brows inched up, “So you already plan on being out here at that time frame.”

You nodded, “I have two premiers in December, some press for a film late January, and another film out in mid to late January. Until September, I have a few things that have been lined up, but it’s all pretty flexible.”

“Well we don’t have much to film for winter scenes,” he muttered on his way to the door causing you to turn and stand at his opening the door, “If you’d give us a few moments we’ll call you back for the second round.” With a nod you went back to your former seat in the waiting room a bit confused if you’d given a good impression or not and with camera in hand he led his aid into the second office where you saw Lee and Tracy off in a third side office reading scripts no doubt until the pair entered the office next to theirs. The door shut and shaking your head you went for your book again and for what seemed to be far longer than you had seen the other girls wait you read until the door opened to the office after you heard a muffled shriek that made you flinch followed by a few loud thuds.

“Miss Pear?” Closing your book your face must have been priceless because she let out a bashful chuckle saying, “There was a bug, it fell on me.”

“Ah, ya, hate that.”

You said crossing to the doorway where you found Lee tying his boot back on letting out a weak chuckle, “You missed it, huge centipede.”

“Glad about that,” you said eyeing Tracy shivering off her crawling skin from seeing the bug just scooped away into the trash.

The second Producer asked, “You’re already planning on being out here in early January?”

“My Mate is filming here, well, in Canada, he hasn’t shared where exactly. Also said we could look into apartments near the one Lee rented. So it must be relatively close for him. I do have to be through Europe though near the end of the month.”

The Director shook his head, “No, no, only two episodes I believe heavy for winter months. We don’t have lengthy film windows for that, and even then we could touch up again in February if we would have missed something. Will you be here then?”

“Yes, one of my extra spots is being reshot in England, but it only should take a couple weeks. I’m just an extra blip in the film for some humor. Then I can just pop right back.”

The Director chuckled, “You really do bounce back and forth around the globe don’t you?”

That had you giggle, “You have no idea. But I’m used to it. Through school summer to fall in Julliard and Holiday break in Oxford then back again until summer for my semester back at Oxford. And New Zealand and Canada seem lovely alternatives for the ocean hopping paths too.”

Smoothing his hands down the sides of his jeans the first Producer watched the second pass you a page you looked over, “If you wouldn’t mind, Lee and Tracy have read up on the scene we’d like you to run through.”

You nodded and they set up some chairs and the spare table along the wall on your right for a mock set. Out of your jacket you shrugged leaving it by your bag along the wall stepping into place for what had the others smirking to themselves at how the three of you clearly had chemistry and a great flow already even just dropped into a scene. A few adjustments were made for the next few times you went through the scene and the second behind that one to ensure you might fit the mold they were looking for.

Facing them again you grinned holding a hand over Lee’s eyes giggling out, “Just ignore his face,” That had you giggle at his bump to your back and hug of your arm now being pinned to his chest so he could inspect the group that had just broken from their hushed conversation.

The Director was the one to say, “Well you certainly mesh well personality wise.”

At the glances from the Producers you knew it was something about how you looked, and the Second Producer asked, “Do you perm your hair?”

“No,” you shook your head, “And if you need it straightened or shorter or even dyed I’m good with that. I asked Lee about that earlier, he said the sister, other sister, is blonde.”

“That’s good,” the Director nodded, “Very good, I think blonde might be a bit too drastic a change, our original thought was for a brunette actress.”

You nodded and said, “Sure, about how long? Mine is to the middle of my back, but it can reach my waist if I straighten it.”

Tracy said, “Original girl’s was here,” she said on your upper bicep about to the level of your bust.

“Oh that’s no problem. I have some friends who have been dying to play with my hair.” That had brows rising on the Producers, “They’re licensed beauticians, work with pageants mainly a few films they’d give me a good deal since I have so much hair and they’d have to straighten it then cut it then dye it and straighten again. Giving them tons of time to play with it.” After a moment you said, “Plus Lee’s brows are kind of similar to mine, I have some colored contacts if you want me to wear those too.”

The Director said, “I think the purple should be fine. From a distance they kind of look blue, besides, the purple is sort of your charm. Can’t hide that.”

Lee’s hands shifted a bit more comfortably around your arm he lowered to rest across his belly thrilled to have had this go so well. “How are you with swim suit shots? We have a scene for a hot summer day with an actor being shirtless and in the script we would have you possibly in a bikini top and shorts sunbathing.”

“As long as it’s a sensible top that should be fine,” you giggled out, “We won’t be filming that in January, will we?”

“No,” the trio chuckled, the first Producer saying, “In Spring when we pick up filming again.”

The Director nodded and offered his hand yours was released for, “Welcome aboard then. We’ll send the contracts to your lawyer along with a firm timeline for filming so you can plan accordingly. Thank you, truly for coming along. We will let you know about the table read dates coming up through the next few months.”

Pt 29

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

#Lee Pace x Reader OC #Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Audition #Travel #Best Friends #Catching Up #Off To Canada

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paperbagpetrichor · 4 years

Note

Can I request Jotaro x fem reader who has an angel like stan who’s feathers can harden like steel or silver? (Basically like Hawks quirk from bnha)

[ I had a ton of fun with this one! c: ]

It was supposed to be a simple car ride. A long one, at that, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that in your eyes. After the chaos of India, the stand users, the...Polnareff and the toilet situation...and Avdol, which you now had to hide from the Frenchman he’d been willing to sacrifice himself for, the sheer absurdity of everything and so fast-paced that if you so much as blinked you’d open your eyes to find yourself in yet another trap, yet another battle, yet another hurried attempt to move on in hopes of avoiding enemy contact, constantly out of breath without a moment to yourself, a nice, tranquil, lengthy drive sounded perfect. There was always the threat of Dio’s minions, but to your knowledge you’d dealt with a fair enough amount of them in India to say that you’d be surprised if the god wasn’t keeping his security closer to his lair. You had the advantage of a van regardless. If someone tried to run after you, all that was necessary was a lean into the gas and you’d be gone in an instant, out of harm’s way. So as the time passed on with you sandwiched between Jotaro and his grandfather, you relaxed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, gently leaning your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder as he let you sink into him. He wasn’t much of the embracing type, nor the talkative one, but the occasional serene expressions the two of you would share every now and then, the way his head would sometimes hover over yours, a quiet reassurance of his presence, was more than enough for you.

When the red car began to tail you, you didn’t pay it much attention. Probably just another traveler. And especially after Polnareff’s unprecedented swerving around the sedan, a rather annoyed traveler, who, you supposed, had every right to be. But after Anne rejoined the party, squished in beside you and Mr. Joestar, and a passing glance at the back window to see the mountainous terrain disappear into the vague smoothness of the road, only to notice the very same car, you shifted into cautiousness. Jotaro sensed it, gaze following yours, eyeing you with a small grunt of acknowledgement before the car suddenly honked at you. It passed, only to slow you down, either meaning one of two things: a pissed-off driver clinging to vengeance like a moth to a light, or an enemy stand user. The instant Jotaro asked if anyone had seen the driver’s face, your stand materialized at your side. Bathed in a golden-white light, practically glowing, feathered wings sprouting from its back, it was an angelic sight. Every time Jotaro saw it, he was captivated. But as your stand leaned out the window and hardened its feathers, he was reminded of the situation at hand, and fell quiet as you launched steely projectiles at the car, careful to gather them just behind the driver’s window so that should the car’s operator crank it down you’d have a good view of his face. Of course, this was all thrown off-balance when you found your own vehicle swerving into a truck. Instantly you retracted your lost feathers and prepared for a fight only to leave without one. The rest of the ride went in relative silence, whether from shock or insecurities or lack of conversation material or all of the above, but whatever tranquil quiet you and Jotaro had shared earlier was replaced with an air of tension. Neither of you let your guard down as you pulled into a small roadside teahouse.

You were still nonetheless fascinated with the idea of sugarcane juice, and Jotaro, noticing your longing glances, ordered one for you. “Thanks,” you smiled as he passed the drink to you, beginning to sip it. It tasted like liquid sugar - it was delicious. Jotaro took note of the pleased grin on your face, and you took note of his mark, offering the glass to him. “It’s really sweet, but good. Try some.”

With a shrug, Jotaro began to down it, only to pause midway through his first taste and practically gag. How could you stand that? It felt like trying to swallow melted sugar cubes, somehow sweeter than any sugar he’d ever tasted, anything he could’ve ever imagined. He coughed and crinkled his face with disgust before sliding it back to you. “All yours,” he grumbled.

“Let me guess. You take your coffee black, and never use milk or honey in your tea, hm?” you giggled, drinking down the last of it as Jotaro snorted before looking away. You quickly followed him: the red car was in the parking lot. Setting your glass down, you moved to head up with the rest of the group, who had evidently noticed the presence of the familiar vehicle, faces shifting with suspicion after the bartender admitted he hadn’t seen the person leaving it. There was only one option left, then, but the entirety of the group looked ready to punch the truth out of every possible patron, tooth and nail. “Let me handle this,” you instructed, “we don’t need to waste energy trying to find him before we fight him. Come on, get a drink and act normal.”

The others sensed your plan and followed suit, Jotaro ordering a black chai tea that didn’t deserve its title as he requested no milk or sweetener in it, leaving just the subtle spices, almost as if to prove a point, eliciting a small laugh from you as you ordered a refill of your juice and settled down at a table with him, beginning to head to work. The range of your stand was considerably larger than Jotaro’s, albeit not as great as Kakyoin’s, but wide enough to encompass all of the tables and bars stationed around you. You could feel Jotaro’s eyes carefully watching over you as you set to work. With your hardened feathers, you sent one to each table, fashioning makeshift quills sharp enough to dig into the wood of the simply-fashioned furniture and carefully but quickly carving the phrase Car? into it. When nobody showed any signs of response, save for shock at the word suddenly appearing on everyone’s table seemingly out of thin air, you pushed the boundaries a bit more. Angling your feathers’ sharp points in the direction of the customers, you fired a slow burst of consecutive arrows, denting the tables closer and closer to the patrons every time, slowly but surely, a warning sign at its finest. Again you were faced with nothing but shocked faces. Nobody seemed to have noticed it was you sending the calls, or at least, if they did, and indeed saw your hardened feathers approaching, refused to show it. You set your jaw as you reached the table’s edge, scraping out Show yourself, coward, followed by a forceful jolt as a single feather cemented its way harshly between each patrons’ legs, at the least scaring them and providing a brief trapping just long enough for the others of your team to scan the area only to come up empty before the noise of an engine starting distracted all of you.

The red car was once again on the move. “Crap,” you muttered, abandoning your drink as you followed Jotaro back to the van and hopped in, bracing yourselves for a rocky, speedy chase, instantly ignited and kicking off the automobile like it had been shoved with the force of a thousand men, jolting forwards and gaining momentum in mere seconds. You grit your teeth. If you’d just managed to catch him quicker at the drive-in, or kept your feathers beside the red car’s window, you would’ve been able to make out his face.

Jotaro saw the subtle change in your face and gave you a nudge; his way of reassurance. “Like hell that asshole’s getting away.” As the van sped up and swerved around the curves of the road, hitting stray rocks and throwing about its contents, you were slammed into Jotaro time and time again only to extend a wing around Jotaro and the other around yourself, creating a protective, soft barrier between the two of you. It wasn’t that you disliked his close presence, but you would understandably prefer it if that presence wasn’t caused by a bumpy ride after a stand user as fast as the van could go. Once more you shot your arrows out at the car, landing almost soundlessly against the red paint behind the driver’s window against the previous indentations you’d left.

A dead end. And then, somehow, the car was behind you, ramming into the van and lurching everyone forwards, your wings the only things preventing you from flying face-first into the back of Kakyoin’s chair, Mr. Joestar using his size and strong arms to hold himself and Anne back. And then suddenly you were falling. Thankfully, Hierophant Green’s quick action and Jotaro’s devilishly pointed action saved you, dragging the culprit down, tightening the wench as you emerged safely on the other side, only for your stand and Star Platinum to emerge at the same time, Jotaro delivering heavy blows to the now airborne vehicle and you piercing through its windows with feathers flying from your wings, sending the red car crashing into the ravine and exploding at the bottom. And yet just when you thought you were done, the car burrowed up from the ground right beneath your means of transportation. The stand had been the car all along.

Before you so much as had a chance to stop him, Jotaro was attacking the stand, only for it to shoot at him and puncture straight through his arms in fractions of a second, you barely capable of holding back a gasp as he attempted to steady himself, you quickly catching him and helping him stand, taking off your jacket and tearing it in half to wrap each of his arms within them in a primitive bandage, monitoring him but not interrupting him. You trusted him. But it hurt to see him in pain like that, to know that the stand was already capable of such damage when just barely provoked. You were able to sense the car preparing for its next attack just in time and enveloped Jotaro - and the approaching Kakyoin and Polnareff - in your wings, pulling them tightly to you and hardening your feathers so densely that it took a good portion of your strength to keep them covering the men’s bodies as the next attacks were launched, only to fire and rebound off your protective barrier, just a few managing to hit weak spots and causing cuts, thankfully not deep, to drag along your arms as you braced yourself for more.

“[Y/n], the boulders. Attack from there,” Jotaro breathed against you, and reluctantly you retracted your wall, darting for the safety of the rocks instead, rushing behind them, giving you just enough time to almost absent-mindedly wrap one wing protectively around Jotaro, holding him close, while the other fired steel-sharp, thorny feathers at the attacker. They pierced the windows and dug into its sides, but failed to completely penetrate the center of the stand, because the car, albeit slowed by your firing, continued to close in on you. You let your boyfriend go as everyone scrambled up the mountainside and as the vehicle followed, preparing to attack only to realize what had caused your injuries - gasoline. More shots were fired before you could stop them, hitting Jotaro squarely once more, you barely catching him in your arms before darting out in front, hardening your wings spread as far as you could stretch them, only for your injuries - and subsequently those of everyone your wings touched - to spark into agonizing flame as electricity raged in your veins. Despite your agony you managed to throw a glance over your shoulder only to see a fear you never knew you had.

Jotaro was enveloped in flames, collapsing to the ground. The rest of the world faded away, there was nothing but you and the ever-fading faint calls of the others to stay back, but you wouldn’t stay back, you couldn’t stay back, because all you saw and heard and felt was Jotaro, burning, right in front of you, as a scream ripped through your throat as you fumbled for anything, anything, to douse the fire in, only for Jotaro’s voice to snap you out of it. Your heart was in your chest - the sound had come from behind you, but the flames still raged in front of you...were you just imagining things, trying to avoid the terrifying thought that you’d never see the one you loved most again? But as you turned, a gasp escaped you as Jotaro struggled out of the ground, you rushing to his side and helping him up. “Jotaro!”

“I’m okay, [y/n],” he reassured, voice low as he readied himself for the next round of offense, an arm, the less injured one but bleeding nonetheless, draping itself around your shoulder and giving your arm a gentle squeeze, “but it’s time to make this bastard pay.”

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nike-shawn · 4 years

Text

Vampire Shawn Prt 2

Here’s part two! It kind of fills in a lot of gaps, but be prepared for a ton of fluff and protective Shawn next part! Send in any ideas you have for this series!! I’ll try and have it done by Halloween 👻 🎃

You’ve been sitting on your couch across from Shawn who’s perched at the end of your coffee table, his long, gangly legs awkwardly bent in front of him. You can tell that time is passing by the waning daylight outside, but you can’t quite become conscious enough to do anything about those long stretches of minutes sprinting by you.

You keep grazing your fingers over the bite mark.

Shawn is definitely not okay, either. He looks sad and guilty, like a puppy that just peed on the carpet. Right now, his hands are cupped over his cheeks and his elbows are resting on his knees. You absentmindedly glance up at him.

“So,” you ask, your voice raspy from disuse, “what does this mean? Am I a vampire now?”

Shawn lets out something like a laugh, snorting through his nose. “No. The whole world would be vampires if that was the case.”

“Okay,” you say with a hint of annoyance, “then why am I different? Why are you freaking out? Have you never done this before?”

Shawn removes his head from his hands and wearily meets her gaze. “I’ve been... like this,” he gestures at himself, “for ten years. Was turned by some dying vampire in the woods behind my house. When we start to feel ourselves growing weak, there’s something biologically that forces us to create another one of us. To preserve the population, I guess.”

“So you can die? I thought you lived forever.”

“We can die if another vampire kills us. Like, they have to stab you through the heart and do this stupid little encantation and...” he trails off. “It’s not common. There aren’t a ton of reasons why anyone would wanna kill another vampire, but I guess the guy who turned me got himself in a bit of trouble. I was just there at the wrong time.”

You hum your understanding. Shawn searches your eyes for something, and he must’ve found it because he continues on with a bit more zeal than before. He says, “I’m very young by vampire standards. Ten years is a drop in the bucket for us. Most of the time, we find someone to spend the rest of our days with around one hundred years old or so, which is still pretty young. But I guess I just got lucky because... um.” He gets embarrassed here, refusing to meet your eyes. “Because when I bit you, there was this feeling of contentment and happiness and like... security? I guess. And usually, that coupled with bite marks that scar instead of instantly disappear means you’re my person.”

You start to feel chills creep up your spine. “I’m your person? What does that mean?”

Shawn stands and starts to pace. He looks incredibly out of place in your minuscule apartment, looking just too tall and too handsome for the shabby furniture and peeling wallpaper that surrounds him. He’s nervous. So, so nervous, in fact, that you start to feel sick yourself, that anxiety that you only feel before a test or performance creeping into your chest and refusing to budge. Shawn, still pacing, answers you with visible reluctance. “Since we live so long, any semblance of a relationship with any human just ends in heartbreak and depression. So, evolutionarily, we developed these soulmates. People who our hearts kind of match with. And I guess you’re.... you’re mine.”

You try not to get too caught up in the basics, instead pushing him further into the specific, important implications this has on your life. “So I live forever then? Because then you won’t have to lose me.”

“Right.”

“And I’m just expected to stay with you for the rest of my life?”

“Rest of our lives,” he specifies. “But yes.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Shawn laughs for real this time. You scrunch up your face in disgust at his suddenly cocky attitude. He recovers and says that “you won’t be able to be with anyone else. For some reason, when you were born, our hearts aligned. Anyone else just won’t do it for you. It’s painful to be away from me.”

“God, you’re so full of yourself,” you scoff.

“No, I’m not. I’m telling you the facts. If you try to move on without me, you will actually be in physical pain.”

As he says that, you feel a slight pull towards his body. Your mind starts to consider forcing yourself away from Shawn, to show him just how much of a jackass he’s being, but even the thought makes this electricity thrum through your veins and take over your every thought, saying get closer, don’t leave.

It’s then that you start to feel scared. “You can’t just make me do this,” you say, your heart beating out of your chest. “I don’t want to live forever. I don’t want to watch all of my family members and friends die.” You start to tear up. “I wanted to get married and have kids and...” you trail off, letting the tears run off of your face.

Shawn watches you sadly. You feel trapped. The walls around you seem to be closing in, forcing you into a life you didn’t want to live with a boy you barely knew existed. The limited knowledge you have about his lifestyle is enough to force you out of complete denial and into some kind of mourning, a loss of an innocence you didn’t know you had, a complete disregard for everything you supernatural. And now you must reckon with what you brushed off as fairytale in the most personal, most direct way.

And the only person who knows any possible way to get you out of this overwhelming pit is the one who threw you in it.

You look up at him. He’s no longer nervously pacing, but just looking at you with so much sadness that you feel almost worse than before. He obviously feels terrible for putting you in this position. He didn’t mean to do this to you— he was just trying to eat. And now you two are bonded for the rest of your lives... however long that may be.

“Do you want me to help you out?” Shawn asks tentatively. He creeps forward one step at a time, careful not to invade your space. “I think there’s this thing you can do to your soulmate, like a kind of energy transfer? I know you’re in a tough... a tough spot, right now, so I can give you some of my positive thoughts?” At your silence, he dejectedly looks to the floor. “Or I can just help you sleep. Maybe you just need some rest.”

You nod and accept that offer, happy to have a solution that pushes everything to the future. You can deal with this when you wake up.

Shawn softly smiles at you and asks, “where’s your bedroom?” You lead him down the hall and push open the door to the bedroom you thankfully just cleaned (not that you should be worrying about that— guess he’ll eventually see your less than satisfactory cleaning habits if he is supposed to spend the rest of his days in your presence). You sit on the side of your bed with your legs hanging over the side, waiting for him to say something, do something to make you drift off.

But he just stands there.

“Are you gonna help me fall asleep?” You ask impatiently.

“I... uh. I have to be touching you.” He shifts from one foot to the other. “I could probably just hold your hand but it may take a bit that way. I don’t know, um, but if you’re comfortable with it—”

“It’s fine, Shawn,” you say tiredly, crawling across the mattress and burrowing under the blankets. “Just help me forget about his, okay?”

He nods and looks grateful for your permission as he kicks off his shoes and finds himself laying beside you. He puts a careful hand on your hip, as if to ease into it, before gently easing you onto your side and molding his front to your back. Immediately you feel warm and comforted and like you just came home after a long day, like you’ve had all this tension building and building and you can finally let it go. Your eyes start to droop and Shawn loses the stiffness in his position. You can feel his breathing start to even out.

And you drift off to sleep with the smell of his cologne tickling your nose.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s morning when you wake up again.

The sunlight is weak and new, so you guess it’s around seven in the morning. The rays of light drift over your bedroom in a way that makes it look magical, and you’ve never seen it quite like this. You wonder if it’s maybe because you’ve become attune to the other types of magic in this world and, suddenly, you’ve started to see it everywhere.

Shawn’s still in his position behind you, his hand having migrated underneath your shirt and laying flat against your stomach. Normally you’d feel self conscious or repulsed by the intimacy of it, but there’s a security in knowing that no matter what you do, your soulmate is attached to you for life. No need to feel self conscious when the handsome boy spooning you physically has no choice but to love you.

Love you. What an odd concept. Will you love Shawn? Will he love you? Unavoidable conciliation and love are extremely different things. Do the two eventually coincide with time? Is it possible for you not to love him with this magical little romance bond you have?

You sit up to force your brain to stop overthinking, trying to give it something else to focus on. Your eyes narrow in on the phone screen that just lit up on the floor. It isn’t yours— the screen reads “Nathaniel” with no last name and no contact picture.

You shake Shawn’s shoulder. He wakes up quickly, almost like he was never fully asleep. “Hm?” He murmurs.

“Your phone’s ringing.”

He looks over to where you’re staring and makes his way over to it, his knees cracking with the movement. He squints at the screen for a moment before sliding his finger across and walking out of the room. Before he closes the door you hear him greet the caller with a quiet “hey, man.”

So you start to go about your morning as usual, as if you hadn’t been made immortal and given a super hot vampire boyfriend to have and to hold for the rest of your lives. Routine is essential. As you brush your teeth and put on the music you always do in the morning, you slowly start to feel back to your old self, back to the girl who assumed she’d retire at 65 and die by 90. The girl who thought she’d get married by 30 and have kids not long after. The girl who didn’t know about stupid, handsome vampires.

Time moves by quickly and soon you’re debating whether to go to class or not. Is it all pointless, now? Do you still need a degree if you’re gonna stay 21 forever? What happens when you’ve worked somewhere for 15 years and haven’t aged at all?

Your pondering all these questions when Shawn opens the door and smiles at you before slipping his phone in his sweatpants pocket. “Hey, good morning,” he says politely. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” you ask, pretending not to be too interested.

“Nathaniel. You’ll meet him soon. He’s one of my friends, lives at the house.”

“The house? Is that a code for something?”

“No, no. It’s just a place for new vampires to go, to get started. They give you a place to live, a couple pointers, and then you’re sent back out into the world. But they keep tabs on us for the rest of our lives, I think. I don’t know. Maybe there’s some kind of cut-off age.” Shawn shrugs. “Either way, you’ve gotta head over there within the next hour. You’re not technically a vampire, but he wants us to meet with him, clear a few things up.”

You lick your lips and decide that you’re definitely skipping class. You tell him, “if you’re going I’ll go.”

That seems to make him happy. He squeezes your hip as he passes by you, picking up his flannel off of your floor. “Okay then, that was easy enough,” he says with a lift in his voice you hadn’t otherwise heard before.

The two of you start to walk from your apartment to the place where Shawn parked just a block or so away. It’s a nice fall morning and there’s only a slight chill in the air.

You’re in comfortable silence when you see the spot where Shawn stopped the first time you met him, saying he heard an animal who was hurt. The image of him doing that, of him standing in the leaves and dirt with his head peeking into the woods, seems so foreign and far away from the boy you have right beside you. That Shawn was kind, sure, but mysterious and with a hint of darkness lurking beneath his skin. This one is glowing and so beautiful and genuinely happy to be with you. Whether it’s the new soulmate status or just your blossoming realization of his charming personality, you walk a bit closer to him, bumping your shoulder to his bicep every once in a while.

You and Shawn reach his car and he comes around to open your side. You blush. “Thank you,” you say.

“It’s no problem,” he replies casually. He makes his way to the drivers seat and blasts the heat for you. The leather of his seats are cold and worn but you’re slightly distracted by the way his hand reaches out and briefly touches your thigh. It’s almost like he forgot that you had only just met, because as soon as he meets the fabric of your jeans, he jolts away like it was hot.

But you can’t really ignore the way the smallest of touches sent butterflies through your whole body.

Shawn explains to you that when you enter the house, there will be young, inexperienced vampires crowding you, hungry for anything they see. You tense. He seems to recognize your apprehension and hurries to explain, “they won’t actually bite you though. They can’t. That’s why your bite marks will never go away— vampires will know that you’re mine.” At the phrase, you see him blush. “And they can’t fuck with you then. It’s illegal to bite someone else’s mate.”

“What does it mean if it’s illegal? Is there some like,” you wave your hands around to illustrate a grand building, “higher court of vampires, or something? Is there vampire jail?”

Shawn doesn’t take your questions as lightly as you intended. “No, Y/N. If you fuck up, they just kill you.”

You wish you would melt away right there. “Oh.”

“There’s an overpopulation of vampires as it is. We don’t have any real predators and we live forever. Even accidents like car crashes or freak situations can’t kill us— we heal insanely fast. So, if it’s decided that you ignored the rules and endangered a rule-abiding vampire, you’re done. Cut.”

“Wow. That’s harsh.”

Shawn’s signature easy-going nature returns as he laughs a bit. “Yeah, really harsh. But it makes it safer for you, so. I don’t really mind.”

His sudden protectiveness makes a ball of warmth spread from your chest outwards to all parts of your chilly body.

Maybe being stuck with him forever wouldn’t be so bad after all.

What did you think? I really love any and all feedback from you guys!!

There should only be one or two parts after this, but send in any of your ideas for vamp Shawn. also send in any requests for blurbs or longer fics like this one!

Part Three

#shawn mendes imagine #vampire shawn #fics #fluff #supernatural

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sponfawn · 5 years

Text

MTH - Rowdy Bros (part 2)

Continuing from part 1, I'm not going to do every interaction in every chapter, but I'm going to analyze interactions in some key scenes.

* He knows how to use it/Lonesome when you go

In chapter 5, the scene with the team of school shooters happens. We get a lot of new information regarding the Boys' priorities, general lives, and interactions. Some of the info isnt surprising, since we know they work for an evil corporation, but it does give more explicit insight into their experiences. The Boys are completely unconcerned with the hostage situation - Brick is just annoyed, Butch is excited cuz there's a surprise with guns and even impatiently asks if the gunmen will shoot Brick or what, and Boomer's reaction is very nonchalant and relaxed.

Boomer acts like they're people he's just met (tho not new friends). Hes familiar, laid back, and just talks to his brothers like he normally would, as if the gunmen aren't of any significance at all. When one of them tells him to get on the ground, he literally just pouts back like a little kid and says no. Brick literally only decides to help cuz Blossom so desperately needs him to. From the exchanges with the gunmen and each other, we see more clearly what the Boys have likely done. Boomer can tell from a glance what type of gun the guy near him is carrying, all 3 of them know what the human brain looks like outside of the body (with disturbingly casual responses to the idea of it), and a bit later Brick instantly field strips one of the guns. They're familiar with identifying and handling advanced weaponry, and are clearly desensitized to extreme and traumatic levels of violence at 17 years old. But the most important thing that we get from this scene, I believe, is the dynamic that the Boys have.

Brick knows that due to their heroic duties, the Girls will be vigilant for their opportunity to strike, that they automatically will prioritize taking down the shooters to save the hostages, and that theyre perceptive enough to follow Blossom's lead in a split second. He know that his brothers don't have that same motivation, and is concerned that they won't get the message. But all he has to do is say, "Boys", and they snap to attention, Boomer prompting him for directions. All he says is, "help" - hardly an order - but they immediately understand and are ready to jump into action as soon as they get the signal. Brick can say what he wants about their lack of dilligence and obedience, but Boomer and Butch are on it when it comes down to testy situations. Butch still ends up collecting a bunch of guns and shooting various gunmen, and he's not as efficient as Brick would like because of his manic enjoyment of violent/dangerous situations, but he is ready to throw down for Brick at the drop of a single word. Putting a pin in this as well.

* beach episode! - we’ll still have the summer after all

Pretty early on in this chapter, Butch’s raging jealousy makes its first appearance (upon finding Brick and Blossom interacting alone on the beach). Because he works through his emotions with physical activity, he starts the (series of) iconic volleyball games. After the game between Blossom and Buttercup ends, Boomer and Butch try to get Brick to play a game with them. In the struggle between Brick trying to escape and his brothers trying to drag him to the net, he slips out of his shirt and all of the girls present flip their shit. As expected at this point, Butch, but also more surprisingly Boomer, becomes jealous, as well as the rest of the guys present. When Butch realizes that even Buttercup finds Brick attractive, he goes as far to say, "you're not allowed to find my brother hot!" After Brick declares hes going swimming, some of the guys say “girls suck”, to which Butch bitterly replies, "no, Brick sucks." He holds a ton of animosity and resentment towards Brick, certainly more than Boomer generally expresses for him. Yet, soon after, when the fighter aircraft attacks, Butch is the first to join Brick and pull up by his side when he yells for the others to pull back. After he orders Butch and Boomer to keep the aircraft flying at the same altitude and lead it away and then back towards him, Boomer is the one who asks what he's doing, Butch says nothing. After Brick rips out the aircraft's embedded computer, Blossom begins to examine it. He asks if she has any use for it, and as soon as she says no, he says "Butch, fire", and Butch immediately destroys it in her hand. He responds as quickly as if Brick had pushed a button to fire a laser. It's automatic, and he knew exactly what Brick wanted him to do, with no further explanation. It's also interesting to me that Brick didn't order Boomer to do it. While it may have been coincidence, I also want to put a pin in this thought.

After the Boys go home, and Brick finds out that Darius took over and they have to stay another year, he tells his brothers. And this time it's not Butch who sticks around, but Boomer. After Butch has already left, he helps Brick get blankets and a pillow for the couch, tries to cheer him up. He wants to go, but he knows Brick's emotional state is fucked up and he seems to actually care about him in that. After Brick tells him to leave, when he closes the front door, Boomer can't hold his smile in anymore cuz he's finally free to go back and see Bubbles. I think this is the first time when we see Boomer concerned about Brick, in terms of his emotional well-being. I would say his behavior still has an air of obligation about it, but it tells us that he cares about Brick and is loyal to him, in a way that is otherwise rarely shown.

* bonus chapter: Imperfect boys with their perfect lives

This bonus chapter is short, but it does reveal some things about our Boys. The first thing we find out is that the other field agents at JS genuinely like the Boys. They refuse to let Penny hire movers, insisting that they help. Later, they gather around and laugh as Butch chugs a gallon of coffee. Another detail of note, is that before they attend Townsville High, the Boys seem to have a slightly more amicable, normal (on the surface) sibling dynamic. Brick is still a grumpy pissbaby, complaining about how Darius wants them out, and he threatens to strangle them after they almost cause the Girls to discover them in the movie store. But he lets the Boys do what they want within reason. Boomer tries to lightly cheer him up, and even Butch seems to try to improve his mood, saying that once Brick is in charge of JS he can wipe Townsville off the map. In other scenes in other chapters, the Boys still joke and pick on each other like siblings, but I think that perhaps due to the toll Townsville takes on Brick’s mood and stress levels, along with Boomer and Butch’s growing relationships with the Girls, their dynamic is more strained. At JS, things were generally going according to Brick’s plan, and we’ve seen how an improved mood can change Brick’s entire demeanor and behavior towards them - going so far as to shorten Butch’s punishment by a week. In Townsville, I imagine he’s in a chronic bad mood, even for Brick standards.

* hey there Mr blue, we’re so pleased to be with you

The scene I want to talk about in chapter 7, is when Brick sacrifices Bubbles to the black blob that Him deployed. Again, we see Butch’s automatic loyalty to Brick. Buttercup is choking Brick, when Butch whacks her away.

When Blossom rebukes him for protecting Brick, Butch repeats that she’s not his leader, that she shouldnt even think about giving him orders (and we’ve seen how immediately responsive he can be to orders that Brick gives). Even when Buttercup, his best friend, tells him to move he is resolute, taking a fighting stance. We know that he’s reluctant for things to escalate, watching Buttercup carefully, as he tells Brick to explain quickly. But his resolve never visibly wavers. Meanwhile, Boomer doesn’t move an inch to protect Brick. He’s simply in shock, over what happened.

When Brick comes up to him, Boomer does something that we haven’t (and that likely Brick hasn’t) seen him do before. He directly questions Brick’s actions. In the scene with the aircraft, he asks Brick what he’s planning to do. But it’s because he wants to know what the plan is, not because he’s accusing Brick of making a bad or questionable decision. In this scene, he is showing outward disapproval of what Brick thought was the best decision. And not only that, he (a literal employee of Evil) is questioning how Brick (a verified supervillain and coworker in the industry of Evil) could do that to Bubbles, a superhero. No wonder Brick is unsettled, Boomer is expressing dissent, and suddenly has morals in regards to a superhero.

* Monday broke my heart

Chapter 9 has 2 important scenes that I want to discuss: interactions between his brothers and Brick the day after his date with Blossom, and some interactions at Robin's party. After the date, Brick is miserable. He doesn't sleep at all, he doesn't eat, he doesn't shower, he just hunches over the kitchen table all night. His brothers, who feel much better about their nights, try to cheer him up at least half-heartedly. Boomer is the one who asks if he's eaten, if he wants or needs anything. Butch encourages him to take a shower. After he finally does, they burst into his room, joint in hand. Boomer tells him to cheer up, Butch says "don't suppose you're gonna tell us what's up", and they just spend time with him, passing the joint around. It's scenes like this that I really treasure regarding the Boys. None of them are very communicative or vulnerable with others, and only Boomer seems to have much emotional intelligence in terms of self-knowledge and caring about others' feelings, but both Butch and Boomer do try to be there for Brick, in the ways that he allows them to be. It's easy to forget that between the ribbing, resentment, and abusive discipline.

Unfortunately, it's not even a week later (on a Friday, after several miserable days of Blossom basically ignoring him, and of trying to convince himself it's just adolescent hormones) when Brick turns his own emotional unrest against Boomer. He accuses Boomer of letting Bubbles get to him too much, of listening to her too much, and not having his priorities straight. He tries to order Boomer to break up with Bubbles, even threatening to make it more difficult for Boomer when they return to their jobs. And while he makes some good points about some of the unhealthy aspects Boomer's relationship with Bubbles (like fixating on her at the expense of his own interests and personal time, and becoming overdependent on her), he is absolutely projecting his own feelings and priorities onto Boomer. I think in a way he's worried about Boomer getting hurt like he is hurt, assuming it's inevitable and that it's just due to some distracting hormones.

He doesn't want Boomer to be "trapped". But it's still really very much about himself. He doesn't want Boomer to "drop everything [he's] doing if she so much as utters a word", and throw away everything Brick's been working for. He wants Boomer to do what he hopes he would do in that situation.

This exchange sends Boomer flying to Bubbles, and in their conversation, he reveals some very important aspects of his motivations, and his relationship with Brick.

Boomer is not invested in Evil. We've seen his more passive nature compared to Brick and Butch, and his active efforts to try to be good for Bubbles, something Brick would probly never even consider. Brick obviously makes the calls, and Boomer goes along with it cuz he literally has nothing else to do. His motivations so far have been his loyalty in emotional attachments, and lack of moral conviction. But recently, those things have been changing. Now he has someone he loves who reciprocates in a clear, communicative way. And that same person is teaching him what being "good" means, and asking him to change. In contrast, Butch goes along with Brick out of loyalty to a degree, and also cuz where else is he going to be able to get out his aggression and superpowered physical need for destruction and violence? Where else is he going to be able to handle dangerous weapons, and have enough money to self-medicate? Especially since, by himself, he's doesn't exactly inspire confidence in his reliability or ability to think on his feet.

Getting back to the scene, Boomer is venting about Brick wanting him to break up with Bubbles. And he frantically rants about how Brick is the leader, Butch is the tough guy, and he has nothing. How he's the runt, that the only thing people ever remark about him is that he's the stupid one, that his brothers don't need him for anything. That the one thing that makes him special is his music gift, but even that isn't really his. He's got some serious self-esteem issues, especially in regards to his brothers. Bubbles tries to calm him down, and Boomer ends up Bubbles about the Boys' job. Again, in their conversation, we get a little peek into his inner world, and his relationship with Brick:

Here we see that Boomer still cares about Brick, and still feels a sense of brotherly obligation to him. But I think he's pretty much done in terms of long term loyalty. I think he'll always care for Brick, but he's deciding in this moment that he won't always follow his lead, there's an expiration date. It'd be really interesting to see how Brick reacts to that when the time comes. I'm gonna put a pin in this thought as well.

Just before the party, Blossom and Bubbles go over to the Boys' apartment to give Boomer a haircut. As Blossom's beginning to cut his hair, Brick enters the apartment. After Brick asks what the they're doing, and Blossom says she's cutting Boomer's hair, Boomer makes a point of showing another act of defiance. He addresses Brick, making sure that he can see him reaching for Bubbles' hand - a silent, but pointed rebellion against Brick's previous orders to break up with her.

At the actual party, the infamous truth or dare game plays out. The part I want to talk about is when Buttercup kisses Brick on a dare, and Brick and Butch's subsequent interaction. As Brick goes back inside, Butch is waiting behind the door, glaring at him.

Brick glanced at him and frowned. What?”

Butch just stared at him, fuming.

“What, Butch?” Brick sighed.

“You're a fucking dick,” Butch spat, shaking his head, and shoved past Brick as he went back upstairs.

Brick's initial reaction, reads as confused. His second reaction is tired, exasperated, and I feel like he's just like "ugh what now". Like this is a repeated issue, where he doesn't know why Butch is mad at him. And this to me just demonstrates a continuous utter lack of understanding, in terms of Butch's perspective, and a surprising lack of pattern recognition for Brick. The only reason we've seen for why Butch is ever pissed at Brick, is due to jealousy. His reactions and behaviors are pretty damn consistent. But Brick just doesn't connect the dots, whether cuz of his issues with analyzing emotions, or cuz he was lost in thought. Either way, he fails to realize how attached Butch truly is to Buttercup. He doesn't see that it's not just Boomer (and himself) who's "trapped" by one of the Girls. And to be fair, Butch himself doesnt know it, but for someone who declared that he knew Butch and Boomer, he really doesn't know shit about Butch's internal experiences. This point of resentment and bitterness on Butch's part is a good jumping off point to go into a quasi-conclusion built from the many scenes I've put a pin in.

Butch is deeply loyal to Brick. We see this in many scenes. During the incident with the mama monster and her babies, Butch tells Blossom, "you ain't my leader". He says this again when defending Brick against Buttercup and Blossom in chapter 7. At the beach, Butch executes orders without question, and without hesitation. At a single word, he immediately eyebeams the computer in Blossom's hand, almost as quickly as if Butch was a gun and Brick had pulled the trigger. And all of this is in spite of the deep-seated jealousy and resentment Butch holds for Brick, the fact that he treats Butch like crap, beating the shit out of him over disobedience, and the fact that Brick is a controlling killjoy. So why is he so unquestioningly loyal to Brick? I think one aspect is that he obviously cares about his brothers. Yeah Butch makes fun of them, and gets mad at them sometimes, but that's what siblings do. Regarding the abuse, he has literally said that the reason Brick is so hard on him is cuz "he deserves it" (chap 3). This is a common mindset in abuse victims, and Butch is no exception. This next reason doesn't necessarily have much evidence, so its more of a headcanon, but i think he's also aware, to an extent, of how Brick has taken care of him and Boomer. He knows Brick got them out of Him's grasp, knows he's basically why they have a job with JS at all, why they've had good income. He's not the most analytical, but he's observant of others' moods, emotions, and behavior. We've seen him be so with literally everyone in the hallway when the Boys first attend school, with Blossom and Brick, with Buttercup, Mitch, etc. He acts like a dumbass, but he's not stupid. I think he sees how Brick has had his back (at least against outsiders), and this is a contributing factor to his loyalty. There's also the fact that siblings often fuck each other over, and still love each other and remain loyal to each other. As much as theyre atypical siblings, they're still brothers.

In contrast, Boomer seems to not be as unconditionally loyal to Brick. He tries to be there for Brick, particularly in terms of emotional support, but he is more inclined to ask questions about orders, and when it came to Bubbles he's even willing to outwardly show defiance against Brick's judgement. Ultimately, Boomer is very emotion driven. For loyalty, he needs to love and be loved. He loves Brick, and I think Brick loves him too. But Brick is not exactly demonstrative in his brotherly affection, and I think Boomer needs that. He craves and needs recognition and affirmation. Brick recognizes that Boomer is emotionally driven, but doesn't realize his emotional needs. And that is where Brick fails as a leader. Brick doesn't recognize the need for different leadership styles, based on the needs of his brothers/team. And that is why he's going to lose Boomer eventually. To someone who reciprocates and demonstrates their affection for him.

* Tried to stick a dead body inside me

This last part is on Chapter 10, with particular focus on the symbolism in the Vortex. I've already basically outlined my theories on this in relation to the Boys' dynamics in a post (link in the reblog), but I'll briefly summarize. The actions that happen in the Vortex, as well as the different positions of the Boys, is very important in regards to their relationships with each other. Boomer is at the lowest place, reflecting his lack of self-worth compared to his brothers. He stands at the bottom of a deep pool. He's alone in the cold, dark depths of the water, and the only way out is up. Brick is in the middle, standing on the floor around the pool. He has more freedom of movement than Boomer, and can make more choices. But soon he finds that he's swallowed up by rising waters as it floods outside of its designated area, disregarding boundaries, unable to be compartmentalized. It reflects his loss of control over his situation/environment, his inner turmoil, and relatively recent inability to simply contain and subdue his emotions. Butch is at the highest point, on a fence with Buttercup, feeling free and at peace with her at his back. Because he is literally "on the fence", with Buttercup on the other side, I feel like he might be (subconsciously) reevaluating where his loyalties lie - with Brick, or with Buttercup. It's worth noting that he is only able to be at that height when she is with him. As soon as Brick moves through her as if she's not there, Butch is eviscerated and pushed backwards off of his perch. And the culprit responsible for cutting him open and pushing him off the fence, forcing him "back in his place" or "back in line", is Brick - the one person Butch always seems to lose to (in his mind at least). This also reflects how Brick uses violence to discipline Butch and keep him in line, and that he tries to use that punishment as a way to regain control (since he unknowingly uses Butch's insides to pull himself out of a situation he couldn't control).

Going back to Boomer and Brick, Boomer is the weight dragging Brick down, reflecting Brick's view that Boomer is the runt, and also more recently, a liability due to his attachment to a certain blonde, blue-eyed Powerpuff Girl. Boomer sees Bubbles and her nurturing, loving care for him as a way out of the dark isolation he feels at the bottom. And that's the way he feels with his brothers. He's left behind, alone and cold, Brick and Butch far above him. But he has no hope that they will help him up. It's only Bubbles who seems to see him down there, and altho she doesn't help him either, she does inspire him to gather the strength to pull himself up to grab hold of her.

The symbolism honestly conveys their current relationships with each other, and their internal experiences, in such a concise and creative way that it gets me every time.

TL;DR

Butch is extremely loyal to Brick in an automatic and unquestioning way, despite all the resentment he has for Brick. But I theorize that that may be changing, very slowly, due to Buttercup. He genuinely cares about his brothers, even tho he rags on them a lot and isn't demonstrative or expressive about it. He seems to internalize the idea that he deserves violent consequences for misbehavior, and I wonder how much of his self-destructive behaviors are linked to that.

Boomer is loyal to Brick, but it's not quite as ingrained as Butch's loyalty. Bubbles is heavily impacting his loyalties, partly cuz, generally speaking, Brick and Butch make him feel worthless while she makes him feel wanted and loved. I think he knows his brothers care about him to an extent, but he has emotional needs that they arent willing or able to fulfill. He and Butch are closer than he is to Brick, and I think he understands Butch better than Brick does at least.

Brick is much more emotionally driven than hed like to admit. It influences what he allows his brothers to do, and how he enforces discipline on them. He's pretty typical in terms of thinking that his abuse and manipulation is justified or acceptable. I think he actually wants what he thinks is best for his brothers, but it's very tied to what he wants and thinks is the best path. He projects a lot of his wants and issues onto them. I don't think he's ever imagined a future where they weren't a team. Despite his emotional nature, he lacks emotional intelligence and doesn't understand or know Butch and Boomer nearly as well as he thinks he does. He knows their behavior extremely well, but not the inner processes and motivations that drive that behavior. And I think that's gonna trip him up.

#sbj more than human #rowdy bros #part 2 #its a super long one #im sorry #i wouldve broken it up #but i felt the points i was trying to make #might be more confusing if i broke it up

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superpcsitions · 5 years

Note

[ groom ] [ answer ] [ patience ] [ invite ] [ possessive ] I AM SORRY AKJDHJKF. feel free to ignore the ones you've got no muse for sdkjhff.

[ groom ] your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc .

ARLO KNOWS NOT one thing about fashion. and it’s ironic, isn’t it? that he’s ended up getting involved with a man whose life revolves around such a thing? he can appreciate it, of course, and he learns more every day just from watching florian. as he steps out of the dressing room, decked in a pair of navy slacks, a matching blazer and a soft powder blue button-down, arlo’s squinting his eyes and trying his best to analyze it. after all, he tried his best picking this one out. his eyes meander down florian’s body and land on the ends of the shirt, untucked from his slacks. he takes a few steps forward and without warning, starts tucking the shirt into his waistline all around. reaching the front, arlo raises his brows and presses his lips together as maybe his hand lingers a little too long but he pulls away and unbuttons two of the top buttons of the shirt.

“qu'est-ce que tu penses?”

[ answer ] your muse answering a question meant for mine .

HE’S USUALLY NOT petty. arlo isn’t outwardly possessive— when he is, it’s never vocal. but you see, when it seems like the entire world is attracted to florian agreste and you’re on a weekend vacation with him in corfu and you have yet to keep your hands off of each other for the 24 hours you’ve been here so far, maybe arlo feels a little jealous when he steps away from florian for a few minutes, getting caught up in a conversation with a local in typical arlo rouselle fashion. he glances over his shoulder at florian, who also seems to be talking to someone: a cute girl. short, blonde, beautiful.

and it’s not as if arlo doesn’t trust florian— that’s never really been something that crosses his mind. not with florian. but still, when he hears “so are you seeing anyone?” from such delicate lips, polished in a baby pink gloss, arlo turns in his bar stool and drapes his arms around florian from behind, his head resting on florian’s shoulder and his eyes landing on the girl in front of them. “he is, yeah,” arlo answers for florian before his lips meet the man’s neck sweetly.

[ patience ] your muse telling mine to be patient .

WITH A DRUNK florian hanging on arlo’s arm, his cheek pressed against arlo’s shoulder, the soft sound of florian’s beckoning is becoming a little more distracting as arlo chats with the owner of the restaurant the pair was just at. of course, she had been extra generous with gifting them house wine and florian had lost count of his glasses, as arlo encouraged. and he knows he gets like this— when florian wants something, he sets his mind on it. he gets restless until he gets what he wants and in this moment, it’s to go home. he feels the man’s lips on his shoulder, leaving kisses there and arlo’s desperately trying to act like he’s not distracting him from the small talk with the chatty lady right outside of the quaint restaurant.

“patience, mon amour,” arlo manages to whisper against florian’s hair while the woman isn’t looking. once there’s a dull in conversation, arlo lets out a sigh and wraps an arm around florian’s waist and pulls him closer. “i’d better get this one home.”

[ invite ] your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .

HE’S GETTING USED to florian’s behavior. arlo’s well aware that florian has these ups and downs; though arlo has very little experience with this kind of mental health knowledge, he’s learning as he goes. it was one particular night where all flo wanted was to be left alone because arlo had pissed him off ( and rightfully so ) but arlo simply wasn’t letting it happen. seated on the couch in florian’s living room, he watches as the other man sits in a chair across from him. a sigh escapes him and he reaches his arms out. “mon amour, ne sois pas borné,” he whispers, beckoning him to approach him. it’s not an easy fight to win but arlo is unwavering. finally, florian meanders over to him and instantly, arlo tugs him on his lap on the couch, arms wrapped around him and his lips attacking his neck with pecks.

[ possessive ] your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg or the small of their back while they’re sitting beside each other .

PERHAPS ONE WOULD deem it inappropriate, the way arlo’s got a hand on florian’s thigh under the table at a huge family and friends dinner at vera’s. they’ve finished eating and are now working on tons of bottles of wine, just chatting and listening to each other. currently, thea’s telling an animated story about an acid trip or something, and everyone’s engulfed in her words. well, arlo’s halfway there, his free hand resting under his chin and his elbow propped on the table. he glances over at florian, seated next to him, and offers him a sweet smile. his hand pats the man’s leg but starts to travel north, closer towards florian’s waist. fingers slip between his thighs and he gently tugs at one leg to spread them a little. arlo represses laughter as florian accidentally bumps eden’s knee with his own but still, he keeps his hand there, possessive and entirely inappropriate in such a public fashion.

#* answered #* ft. florian #floagreste

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chaotic-neutral-logic-sass · 5 years

Text

?? I'm crazy??

So I've been playing around with a old writing and thought 'why not post it' and I might try to continue writing if I get a good response? Opinions are very welcome, so is criticism. (There are a ton of references in this)

"ARE YOU INSANE" He shouted over the comlink to which his accomplice responded "My codename is not Death Wish for nothing". Upon hearing that he pinched the bridge of his nose closing his eyes to recompose himself. He then muttered into the comlink "I swear to God Payton if you get caught, with your butt in the vents of the enemy headquarters, That you're suppose to be analyzing from AFAR.-" she cut him off with "You will need a Xanax and then resume assisting me. Am I not far from the truth?" He responded with "I can feel you roll your eyes from here, and maybe if you do it hard enough you'll find a brain back there" Payton huffed and said "out of the two of us. Which one of us can take a gun apart and reassemble it with their eyes closed, hmm?" Too which Roman said quite pleased with himself "can you hack into the Pentagon?" She facepalmed.

He laughed that she didn't have a come back at last, although it didn't last long cause her face lit up even though he couldn't see and she said "can you bleed for 7 days and not die?" He huffed and said "How about we get back to the task at hand?" "Touche" as she crawled threw the vents she saw an exit to the main room of the Warehouse. She put a finger to her comlink and asked Roman "are there any heat signatures in the room below me?" Right after he heard her he hurriedly put away his Pringles and took a big gulp of his black coffee before typing away at his screen to answer her question. Wile she waited she chewed on her lip in anticipation. It had been nasty habit of hers since she was a kid. "Yep" at that she skillfully and silently jumped through the vent landing in a crouch.

Then scanning the room before she came to the realization that she had screwed up. when she made eye contact with a security camera her hand immediately shot up to her earpiece. As she started running for the exit she spoke into her comlink. Realizing he was right "Ummmmm.... You may or may not need that Xanax I was talking about. Can you send me the best route out of here?" afterwards he instantly shot out of his seat leaning over his desk staring at his screen. With a slightly annoyed voice he asked as he pulled up the blueprints for the building she was running through. "what did you do now?!" "I made eye contact with a security camera" she huffed out as she ran."ok, I sent you the way out" she smirked, "thanks" at that he leaned back in his chair and let out a sarcastic, self pitying laugh. With that he said "after this job can I get my sanity back?" As she exited the building jogging to her Harley Davidson she cherished, she asked "is that a rhetorical question or.......?" She let her sentence trall off.

He ran a hand through his dark curly hair, as a small smile rested on his face he responded "rhetorical, I highly doubt boss man will give it back." She smirked and inquired "what? Isnt this fun?" He shook his head and quickly replied with "Nah, I'm just getting bored of watching you get thrown off buildings" she scoffed. "I take personal offense too that comment, I only fall off a building when i need too". He rolled his grey eyes for what felt to be the hundredth time. He replied, "How about we skip too the part where you save the day and I get too; Oh, I don't know swoon?" He smirked. She rolled her green eyes, and with a shake of her head she said "thought we already did that, and it's team work". He wore a shocked expression. Then he smiled and said "Thanks. Meet you at headquarters, Daredevil out."

She smiled then shook her head, and started heading that direction. Now there boss happened to be her little brother, although not so little being 6'3, but he earned his place in the hierarchy he was the second most skilled agent in the force, first being Payton. His code name was Demon, but in the public he by Damian Batson.

As Payton pulled up in the parking garage and saw a familiar neon orange Jeep with Roman leaning against the tailgate on his phone. He looked fairly casual in Black jeans and a red t-shirt compared to her skin tight catsuit she only wore for missions and with a utility belt and a leather jacket. The moment he looked up his eyes widened significantly, it was quite a comical sight.

After she parked next to his neon ride she turned around to be met with him standing there gawking at her. His mouth was wide open. She commented "Are you just going to stand there and gawk?" He replied with a simple "Yes" she said "Well stop it, you look stupid" and with that the short brunette started walking towards the elevator. He Quickly caught up considering he towed over her with his 6'2 compared too her 5'4.

The elevator ride was quite till she piped up with some interesting news "I heard that little bro hasn't slept since they brought the kid home" after a moment of silence they both burst out laughing. The reason for this is because their boss was NOT a people person, infact when people learned he had a wifey they were astonished.

After Roman remembered how to breathe he chuckled out "I was dreading this staff meeting, now I'm actually looking forward to this. It's going to be so amusing" they both shared a mischievous grin as the elevator door opened. "DAREDEVIL!" Upon hearing his codename Roman called out a uncertain "Yes?" And turned around followed by Payton to see a agent who's codename happen to be Sherlock A.k.a. Tim Redder a blue eyed ravenette that stood at 5'6,behind them only to see him trip and all of his papers too go airborn.

Tim just looked at the ceiling with a defeated look and closed his sleep deprived eyes that had dark circles under them for a second. While he was doing that Payton grabbed all his papers, when he opened his eyes they instantly widened. Nobody help him or gave him credit. Heck he was one of the most underappreciated agents, so to say that he was surprised was a under statement. As Roman opened his mouth to ask the poor guy if he's ok, Tim cut him off with "I'm so,so very much sorry. I was going to-" this time Payton cut him off while handing him his papers "- it's fine, we don't mind. What got you in such a hurry?" Tim looked at them like they were on the brink of insanity and said "The staff meeting -" he checked his watch "- started five minutes ago" as he checked the time so did they, Payton quirked a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Roman held up a finger signaling them to wait a minute and checked his phone, a half second later he turned his phone toward Tim and as his eyes glanced at the screen his expression slowly morphed into one of embarrassment. With his cherry dusted cheeks he let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head looking at the floor. At this Payton and Roman shared a look, hesitantly he asked the embarrassed man "Do you know what day it is?" See Timmy man had a history of not sleeping, and too add on top he's 90% caffeine. Back to the point, Tim thought for a second and unsurely replied back with "Friday?" at this they shared another glance as Payton barked out a laugh. While Roman tried to hold some giggles back. Tim's confusion was very visible, he scrunched up his eyebrows and tilted his head where he looked like on of those adorable confused puppies. Payton sputtered out "it's Tuesday" at this her partner finally bust out laughing. Tim let out a very long drawn out "CCCCCCRRRRRRAAAAAAPPPPP" as Payton finished chuckling she said "you're fine, in fact we should get going to the meeting if we want to be early" as they walked Roman opened his mouth only to be cut off by one voice"AYE BATSON!!!-" well two voices "-THINK FAST!!" At this Payton whipped around to catch a katana mid air and see three of her best friends; Clint Hawk, Roy Arrow and Jason Hoods. They where the most knowledgeable Weapons experts in the Shadows. Clint was about 5'8 and had brown eyes and brown hair, his codename was Falcon. Roy had fire truck red hair, light blue eyes and was about 6'1 his codename was Arsenal. Jason was about 6'3 with black hair that had a white highlight and teal eyes. With a nose that had been broken so many times it was crooked, his codename was Arkham Knight. As she caught the katana, Tim let out a squeaking noise and jumped.

While Roman just turned around and sighed. After knowing them for about four years he was used to this kind of shit. As she marveled at the katana, she was in awe of its earie elegance. It was roughly 3 feet long and solid black, the handle was wrapped in blood red satin ribbon with a small scythe charm on the end. She then flipped the sword in the air catching it by the handle. By this time Tim had went ahead to the meeting, Roman was still standing there at her side watching her. Roy was holding the sword seath. Clint had went ahead with Tim. Jason crossed his arms and smirked, surprisingly not hot in his neon red hoodie. When Payton looked up at them and grinned evily, Roman smirked knowing her, while Jason gained a confused expression and Roy turned to the color of a sheet looking completely horrified.

She lowly said "So boys, love the katana" then Burst out laughing with Roman at their expressions, and grabbed the cover and adding it to her belt putting the Katana in its sheath. Her comrade laughed out "What? Ya scared?" At this point Roy was glaring at them, while Hoods just rolled his eyes and said "No, we had this horrified expression on our faces for fun?!" The glaring red head just huffed and said "let's go ahead and get too this meeting" as they entered the board room they were met with a funny sight of their boss. He was sitting at the head of the table with his arms folded under his head snoring loudly. All you could see of his head was his signature black messy hair. While Tim was going through his papers and Clint was playing on his phone like that was a normal every day thing. Roy and Jason shared a shrug and took their seats, meanwhile Roman and Payton nodded too each other and also took their seats. Payton's chair was to the left of her sibling's, and Roman's was to the right. While she YouTubed her master plan, Roman got his phone in video mode to record this. As she found the right video before she hit play she made sure the volume was max and right next to Damian's ear. With that she hit play on the audio recording of one of the most annoying sounds know to man: a babies screaming.

At this his Bright Green eyes shot open, he jumped out of his chair landing on the floor not so gracefully. Groggily looking for the thing making the scouce of announce and Awakening. As Damian saw his surroundings he instantly scowled and debated on revenge options. But decided against it, she turned off the sound and smiled innocently while saying " Morn'in lil bro, enjoy your nap?-"putting her phone in her pocket and turning to Roman she continued "- thanks for the assistance" Roman also grinned and replied "no probs, I'll send it to you" turning too the groggy man glaring at Payton and nodding "sup". She turned back to her sibling and ask "Why ya glaring Dami?" The grumpy man replied with "hoping for spontaneous combustion" she now held a very fake hurt expression with a hand on her heart, over dramatically sticking out her bottom lip and asked with a horrible British accent "honestly dear brother you wound me" said sibling responded with "I hate you" "why darling? I'm lovely" Tim rolled his eyes and piped up "alright, alright let's start with the meeting. You too can finish your glaring contest later"

}~(SpongeBob voice) 3 hours later~{

Now it was just Roman, Payton and Damian in the board room. Payton felt the need to enlarge the meaning BORED. Maybe adding a smidge of annoyance, Roman was drumming his fingers on the table and Damian was grinding his teeth. She had her boots up on the table and her arms crossed. While her incompliance had his head propped up on his hand on the desk also bored out of his mind.

After going through the last of the files Tim gave him. Damian let out a sigh and said "I've got another mission for you, the packet is at your apartment. Report back tomorrow". With that he was gone. As they walked to the elevator and waited Payton said " Ya'know what Vader's wife's name is?-" while pointing to the elevator "- ELLA-VADER" smirking at his face, she turned too the said object waiting for their trun. He shook his head, his face held a lazy smile. "so what do ya think of the sword?" He inquired "It's perfect. I mean the handle is so soft, and it's so so pretty. Plu-" She went on, only to be cut off "Can you please not talk about a sword like most females talk about dresses?" To that she crossed she arms angrily and scoffed " first of all, since when do I talk about dresses like that, and it is a katana." By now they were in the elevator heading back to the parking garage and he simply shrugged and nonchalantly asked "What's the difference?" At this her hazel eyes widened significantly and stared at him in shock then said "how about I put this in simpleton terms, you know how you call vehicles automobiles and there are different types like trucks, cars and SUVs same with swords" she explained with a good bit of hand gestures and flailing of the arms. As the elevator door opened they exited both heading towards their vehicles she added on "and since I came here on my bike you're going to have to let it ride with you" and with that she was gone.

×|}~ At a random Cafe somewhere~{|×

As her deep beautiful blue orbs concentrated on the daily paper, she blinked. Reconcentrating back on the previous words before the spot was lost.

Her companion let out a loud overdramatic groan while rubing the back of his neck. At this she set her paper down and leaned forward putting her chin on her palm, resting her elbow on the table top. A amused eye brow raised, she inquired her British accent being quiet thick "Darling Peter, what's got your nickers in a twist little brother?" his response was too lay his head on the table then he said with an equally thick accent "I'M BORED, you've been nose deep in that bloody paper for an hour" at this exclaimed with a very fake gasp while giggling and hitting his arm in a playful manner. "Peter Francis Grace watch your language" all he did in response was lift his head and roll his eyes at his elder sibling.

}~• A few blocks away from Payton's apartment •~{

As she sped through the streets nearing her desired location, home.

The black Tahoe in the lane to her right suddenly swerved into her throwing her to the left.

#???? idk #??????? tumblr #???? maybe #my writing #help #lord help me

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years

Photo

Six Baudelaires AU, Part One {AO3} {Read from the Beginning}

Chapter Fourteen → in which the Baudelaires go to the Movies

After several seconds, they heard a knock on the door, and they all stepped back.

“Is that Olaf?” Nick asked, horrified. “Was that Count Olaf?”

“Are you all okay?” Lilac asked, as Klaus gripped tighter onto her arm.

“We’re fine.” Violet said. “What was screaming?”

“Nothing.” Nick said.

“If that was nothing,” Violet glared at him, “What was that noise?”

“Soli.” Nick said. “We saw you all on the stairs, and she imitated the screeching iguana to try and scare him.”

“How did he find us?” Klaus asked.

“That’s the wrong question.” Violet said, and they stepped back again as they heard more pounding on the door. “What do we do?”

“Okay,” Lilac said, “We can think of something. We can do something. There’s always something. We could call Mr Poe-”

“He didn’t believe us about Olaf when we lived with him.” Klaus said. “It took him too long to realize the truth, and then it was almost too late.”

“I vote we run away.” Nick said. “Smash a window, run to a train station, get the fuck out of here.”

“And then what?” Lilac snapped.

“Then we’re out.”

“No, then he finds us again.”

“We don’t know that!”

“We could change our names.” Violet suggested.

“How would we get money?” Lilac asked.

“We could get jobs.” Klaus suggested quietly. “Or we could go to the police and bring them back. But we don’t know if Olaf would still be here when we return.”

“What if Olaf’s assistants have already surrounded the house?” Lilac asked.

“We can’t just stay here,” Violet said, “And wait for him to burst in and slaughter us!”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lilac said, her voice shaking. “He needs us alive for our fortune.”

“He needs you alive.” Nick said. “The rest of us are fair game.”

“Nick, shut up.” Lilac said, horror gripping her.

“Propositum,” Solitude said, meaning, “He must have some scheme, we just don’t know what it is.”

“We should never have let him in the house.” Lilac said.

“We can’t think about that now.” Violet said. “We need to do something.”

“Okay,” Nick said, “Here’s the plan. When he gets in, we’ll hide on the other side of the door, tackle him, and then just attack until he dies.”

“God, Nick, no.” Klaus said. “We’re not gonna beat him death.”

“To unconsciousness?”

“First of all, none of us are strong enough for that-”

“But together-”

“It won’t work. Also, we’ll get arrested for murder.”

“It’s self-defense.”

“Everyone shut up.” Lilac said. “I think that’s Monty’s car.”

The siblings did stop talking, listening carefully, as they did indeed hear a car drive up and park outside the house.

“We need to tell Uncle Monty.” Violet said. “He’ll believe us. At the very least, if we show him Stephano’s tattoo, he’ll ask for an explanation.”

“Monty’s the one who hired him!” Klaus said. “And he has Stephano’s eye as his hedge maze! For all we know, they’re working together!”

“Minda!” Sunny shrieked. “Don’t be ridiculous, Klaus!”

“If they were working together,” Nick said, “Why would Monty be so nice to us?”

“False sense of security?” Klaus suggested.

“Stop!” Solitude said, looking very upset.

“Stop scaring Solitude.” Nick added.

“She should be scared!” Klaus said. “Count Olaf is here and…”

They realized, then, that they no longer heard pounding on the door.

“And…” Klaus began, and then he slowly walked to the window, peering out in order to try and see the road. “And he’s talking to Monty.”

They all crowded against the window, pushing each other slightly in order to see better. Monty was indeed talking to Olaf, the two of them looking to be having a friendly conversation.

“He doesn’t know it’s him.” Violet’s heart sank.

“Or he does and he’s about to hand us over.” Klaus said.

“Stop saying that!” Nick said.

“Yeah, Klaus, shut up.” Lilac said. “Look, Monty’s coming inside.”

“So’s Count Olaf.” Klaus said.

They waited a moment, with Solitude leaning onto Nick’s shoulder, and Sunny nervously kicking her legs. Then, after a minute or so, they heard a voice outside the door of the Reptile Room.

“Children! I’m going to come in, just allow me to undo all the security measures outside the door!”

“Uncle Monty?” Nick called, moving towards the door, his siblings hastily following.

“Yes, it’s me! Just give me a moment!”

They heard him imitating several mechanical noises on the other end of the door, and Lilac smiled a little. “So he doesn’t trust Stephano with the knowledge there is no lock.” she muttered.

“That doesn’t mean much.” Klaus said hesitantly, though he also looked a lot more relaxed.

After a minute, the door creaked open, and Monty stood in the doorway. He spoke in a loud, almost overexaggerated manner, as he said, “Children, I am very sorry that you were frightened by the man at the door! But I can assure you there is nothing to be alarmed by!”

The siblings gave each other confused and concerned looks, as Monty glanced behind him and said, “It makes sense that you were alarmed, seeing as he chased you up and down the stairs with a knife, but there’s nothing to fear! He is my new assistant, Stephano, I have seen his papers and everything is in order.”

He glanced behind him again, and then waved a hand, as if gesturing for them to speak. “So, you see, there is nothing to worry about!”

Lilac was the first to catch on. “Oh, I see.” she said loudly, having trouble acting. “We understand now.”

She elbowed Nick, who happened to be closest to her, and he said, “How silly we were to be afraid!”

“Yes, Baudelaires,” Monty said. “Stephano has informed me that he has a very strict fitness regimen where he has to run up and down the stairs with a knife at least three times a day.” He almost broke there, grinning as he made a can you believe this? face. “So that makes. Perfect sense.”

Violet smiled slightly, and then said loudly, “I might join him on that exercise regimen.”

Monty almost laughed there, though he did shoot Violet a look and shake his head. “So, now that that is cleared up,” he continued, once he could safely speak, “Why don’t you help me bring things in from my truck? I even brought dinner.”

“Alright.” Lilac said. “Uh, everyone come along.” She knew that Nick hated bringing stuff into the house- every time their parents came home with groceries, he’d hide somewhere and pretend not to hear calls for him until the car was completely unloaded- but she really, really didn’t like the idea of any of them splitting up while Count Olaf was in the house.

Thankfully, her siblings seemed to have the same thought process, and they all stuck very close together as they walked, glancing around the house to try and see if Olaf was nearby. He didn’t seem to be, and after a moment, Nick asked, “Where is Stephano?”

“Hmm? Oh, he went upstairs to unpack his suitcase.” Monty said, opening the door for the children. “He offered to help me unload the car, but I said you children would be help enough.”

“Ton,” Sunny said, meaning, “There certainly are a lot of us!”

They walked outside the door and over to the car, and Monty said, “Alright, children, we should be fine to talk out here. I am sorry, children, I did not realize our enemies would catch up to us so quickly!”

“You recognized him?” Violet looked relieved.

“So, what are we going to do?” Nick asked.

“Call the authorities?” Klaus suggested.

“Oh, no,” Monty said, as he pulled a canoe off of the top of the car, “Do you think they’d believe us before something horrible could happen? Stephano does not work alone.”

He placed the canoe on the ground, and then opened the trunk of the car, passing bags of supplies to the children. “We must keep an eye on him. We will have dinner with him tonight, and take him to the movies, but tomorrow, I will tear up his ticket to the Prospero. He will not accompany us to Peru.”

They walked around the car, towards the house, and Lilac asked, “How do we know he won’t try anything today?”

“Lilac,” Monty said, “He wouldn’t risk-”

At that moment, something fell from the high window, landing on Monty and knocking him to the ground. It shattered, and they realized quite quickly that it had been the brass reading lamp from Klaus’s room. Violet screamed, jumping back and hugging Sunny to her. Nick gripped so tightly onto Solitude that she let out a slight cry, and Lilac and Klaus instantly ran to their Uncle. “Uncle Monty, are you alright?” Lilac asked instantly.

To their relief, Monty sat up, saying, “Yes, yes, it only hit my shoulder.” He glanced up at the window and said, “Whose room is that? The boys? You should be more careful-”

“Our lamp isn’t near the window.” Klaus said.

“It had to have been Stephano.” Violet said. “Uncle Monty, we really should go to the authorities.”

Monty considered a moment, as he got to his feet, and said, “No, children, trust me. I will be able to handle this. Everything will be alright.”

Dinner was an absolutely terrifying experience for all of the children. They sat awkwardly at the table as Stephano tried to talk up Monty, and none of them could tell whether it was working or whether Monty was simply a better actor than they’d have expected. At first, Count Olaf seemed to be hesitant to attend the movies with them, but as Monty kept insisting, he simply shrugged and accepted it. Lilac had the worst time of the children at dinner, as Olaf sat beside her, and whenever Monty wasn’t paying attention, she felt the cold knife pressed against her knee, rubbing her skin, just to make sure she was as terrified as possible. She held back the urge to grab onto Klaus’s hand beside her, not wanting to startle him. Thankfully, they ate quickly so as to make it to the theater. In the car, the siblings all crowded into the back as Stephano got into the shotgun seat. Monty shut the door for him, moving around the car, and as he did, Violet said, “We don’t know what your plan is, Olaf, but we will stop you.”

“If anything happens to us,” Nick added, “You’ll never get your hands on the Baudelaire fortune.”

“Dear me, dear me,” Olaf said, once again dropping his fake ‘Stephano’ accent, “If I wanted to harm you, orphan, your blood would already be pouring down this road like a waterfall. You needn’t be afraid of me, children- at least, not until we find ourselves in a location where crimes are more difficult to trace.”

“And where might that be?” Lilac asked. “We plan to stay right here.”

“Really?” Olaf glanced out the window, seeing that Monty had stopped to pick up his keys, which he had dropped onto the ground. “Why, I was under the impression we were leaving the country tomorrow.”

“You’re not coming with us to Peru!” Klaus said. “Uncle Monty tore up-”

Nick slammed his hand over Klaus’s mouth, but the damage was done. Olaf narrowed his eyes, and then said in a dark tone, “I wouldn’t rely on your Uncle, children. Even guardians with the best intentions could… fail you.”

Before they could say anything more, Monty entered the car, and Stephano started talking about some kind of snake, and Solitude huffed and leaned against Nick, murmuring about how he wasn’t even saying the right facts and he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

The drive was long, and the children got more and more worried every minute. Violet grabbed onto Lilac’s arm, and Klaus leaned his head onto Nick’s shoulder, and Sunny and Solitude reached over their siblings’ laps and held hands.

When they reached the theater, Uncle Monty went to the ticket seller, asking for a verified film discount, and then he announced they were to see Zombies in the Snow. He bought the children snacks, and as they walked into the film, he said, “Now, everyone: seventh row, right of center, that is the best spot.”

“That’s what Mother always said.” Violet said.

“Who do you think taught it to me?” Monty asked; as he did, Lilac glanced behind them, seeing that Olaf was pulling a very sour face.

The movie itself was very confusing for the children; it had subtitles in the same language it was spoken in, the characters all spoke in stilted and unrealistic dialogue, and whenever a bell rung, Nick and Klaus would hear Monty count every eighth word, write it onto his ticket, and then look at the confused, unrelated jumble of words and erase the sentence, muttering something about paranoia.

Towards the end of the film, Monty leaned over to Nick and said, “I’ll return shortly. I need to talk to the ticketseller. Keep an eye on Stephano, will you?” Nick looked a bit concerned, but nodded, after passing some popcorn to Solitude.

Monty left, and after a moment, Olaf stood up from the other end of the row. Nick caught Lilac’s eye, wildly shaking his head, and Lilac reached out, grabbing his sleeve.

“You shouldn’t leave us alone.” Lilac said. “We’re too young to be in a theater without an adult.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Olaf hissed.

“No, really,” Violet added, “We’ll wander off or cause trouble, and you don’t want that.”

“You’re blocking the screen!” yelled a lady from a few rows back.

Hesitantly, Count Olaf moved back to his seat, and the children kept their eyes either on him or the screen, trying to figure out exactly what he was planning. But when the movie ended, they glanced to the side and realized Monty hadn’t returned.

“Fuck.” Nick said under his breath, and Soli quickly echoed him.

“Where’s Monty?” Klaus asked, as Violet hugged Sunny close and jumped to her feet.

“Come on,” Violet said, “He must be outside waiting for us.”

But as they rushed out of the theater doors, crowding together even as Klaus and Nick cursed at each other for pushing, they found that Monty was nowhere to be seen.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Nick muttered.

“Language.” Lilac said.

“It doesn’t fucking matter!”

“Dear me, dear me,” said Stephano, creeping up behind them, “Your Uncle is missing?”

“What did you do to him?” Violet whipped around, shooting a dark look at their former guardian.

“Why, I did nothing! I was sitting with all of you the entire time.”

“Where’s Uncle Monty?” Nick asked, starting to hold Solitude as tight as he could.

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Stephano gave a very dark smile. “Maybe he decided to meet us at home. Why don’t we drive back and see?”

“We’re not going anywhere with you!” Lilac said. “We’re going to stay here until Uncle Monty comes back!”

“Oh, children,” Olaf said, reaching into his pocket, slowly pulling out the hilt of his knife, only just so that the siblings could see, and nobody else, “Must we go through this again?”

Before he could do anything, though, Nick pressed Solitude against him with one arm, grabbed onto Klaus’s hand with the other, and yelled, “Stranger Danger!” He took off at a run, and without thinking, Lilac and Violet followed, with Violet shooting Olaf the middle finger as they did.

The children raced away, with Lilac pushing her siblings in front of her and hiking up her dress, suddenly wishing she had picked an outfit with a skirt that was easier to run in. Klaus managed to break out of Nick’s grip and he ran for the door, throwing it open. “Lilac, can you drive?” he asked.

“A little?”

“Okay, we’ll take the car-”

“Can you run him over?” Nick asked as he rushed past Klaus, who held the door open until Lilac arrived, fearfully watching Olaf running after them, catching up very quickly and looking very angry.

“Nick, that’s illegal.” Klaus said.

“Self-defense!”

But just as the children all escaped the building, starting to run across the dark parking lot, they slid to a stop as none other than Uncle Monty walked around a bend, smiling brightly. “Hello, children!” he said. “Did you enjoy the film?”

“Uncle Monty!” Lilac’s face lit up.

“Monty!” Soli cheered.

They changed their direction, running to their guardian, but Violet and Nick both glanced behind them to see that Olaf had stopped dead in his tracks several feet from them, looking very displeased.

“Where’d you go?” Klaus asked, concerned.

“Just went to chat with an old friend.” Monty said. “Stephano, I believe I ran into some of your associates on my way out.”

“Oh, did you?” Stephano asked, and the Baudelaires felt very, very cold.

“Children,” Monty said, “Why don’t you go wait in the car, while I have a word with my assistant?”

“Will you be okay?” Lilac hesitantly asked.

“Of course. I am your Guardian. Run along.” Then, he whispered, “Lilac, you may sit up front if you wish.”

Lilac beamed and nodded, and the children smiled at Uncle Monty before returning to the car.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Nick asked, peering out the window.

“I can’t hear shit if you’re talking.” Violet said, trying to climb over him.

“You can’t hear anything anyway.” Klaus said, ducking under Nick’s arm. “The windows are closed.”

“Shh!” Sunny yelled from Lilac’s lap. “Be quiet, and maybe you could hear something!”

“They seem to just be talking.” Lilac said. “Solitude, stop eating food off the car floor, you don’t know how long it’s been there.”

“Jilke,” Soli said, meaning, “But why let it go to waste?”

“Spit it out.”

“Let her eat whatever she wants.” Nick said. “This is more important. Klaus, can you lip read?”

“Not from this distance. Neither of them are facing us anyway.”

“Poliziotto?” Sunny asked, which meant something like, “Do you think Uncle Monty called the police?”

“Hopefully.” Lilac said. “Are they still talking?”

“No.” Violet said. “No, Olaf’s walking away, and Monty’s coming towards us.”

“That’s good, right?” Nick asked.

“Is he just letting Olaf go?” Klaus asked. “Did he call the police?”

“What happened?” Violet added.

“Stop crowding the window.” Lilac said. “Sit back, okay?”

Violet, Klaus and Nick slowly moved away from the window, squeezing themselves into the backseat. Nick picked Solitude up off the floor, placing her on his lap as Uncle Monty reached the car, climbing into the front seat. He had already started to drive before Lilac finally said, “How did it go?”

“I believe it went well.” was all Monty said.

They drove in silence for a while, before Violet pressed, “So, um. Did… did you two argue?”

“Oh, yes. I confronted him, and the authorities are on their way.”

“Really?” Nick looked relieved.

“We’re just leaving him there?” Klaus asked hesitantly, sharing a concerned look with Sunny.

“Don’t worry, children, a very capable ticket-seller volunteered to watch him.” Monty smiled slightly. “Besides, if he does slip away, it will be none of our concern, will it? Tomorrow morning, we will sail off on the Prospero.”

“To Peru.” Nick said.

“Yes, to Peru! Baudelaires, I’m sure you have a lot of questions after that film, and I know I’d be just as confused as you were had my parents not taught me these things when I was your age. I believe our journey will be a formative experience for you all.”

“Snake!” Solitude cheered, and Nick and Violet laughed.

“Life is a conundrum of esoterica.” Klaus said quietly.

“Well said!”

When they arrived at Monty’s home, they changed into pajamas, and Monty made them hot chocolate while he showed them a map of Peru.

“And then, children, we’ll travel inward in search of some geckos who have an extra leg. First one to find one gets to name it.”

“I think,” Klaus said, bouncing Sunny on his lap, “We should disqualify Nick. He sucks at naming things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick elbowed him.

“You named your stuffed bear ‘Beary.’”

“It’s a pun.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Boys, if you don’t stop fighting,” Lilac sighed, “I’m locking you in the house and leaving you here.”

“You can’t do that,” Nick said, “You’ll lose your ability to convince Soli to do anything.”

Solitude leaned up against Nick, quietly yawning, “Snake. Froggy. Croc.”

“I think you’ve got a new assistant already, Uncle Monty.” Klaus laughed slightly, reaching over to ruffle Soli’s hair.

“I don’t know, Solitude,” Monty said, “I’ll have to check your references.”

“I’ll be her reference.” Nick said. “She’s memorized everything I read her.”

“Snake!” Solitude said cheerily. “Froggy! Croc!”

“Ink!” Sunny giggled, gesturing to the Reptile Room.

“I’m afraid the Incredibly Deadly Viper is probably asleep right now,” Violet said, “But you can talk to him in the morning, Sun.”

“Yes,” Monty said, standing up and picking up Sunny as he did, “We should be getting you to bed. We have a scadillion things to do in the morning, and a boat to catch! Sunny, it seems you’ve finished all of your marshmallows.”

“Yie!” Sunny said. “They were delicious!”

“What my sister means-” Lilac began.

“I know what she means.” Monty smiled. “It seems we’ve finally found a soft food that you like after all.” He smiled at the children, and said, “Goodnight, children.”

“Goodnight, Uncle Monty.” they all said.

“Lilac. Lilac!”

It took Lilac a moment to recognize the urgency in Violet’s voice; she’d been sleeping so peacefully that she had momentarily forgotten she had any worries at all- something that was unusual for her. But when she heard the panicked strain in her sister’s words, she sat up, quickly rubbing her eyes and pushing hair out of her face. “Violet? What’s wrong?”

When she opened her eyes, she saw Violet standing only a few inches away from her, looking very panicked. Behind her, Nick held a half-asleep Solitude, who had her tiny frog on her shoulder, and Klaus was picking up Sunny from the chair she’d made a bed out of.

“Uncle Monty didn’t wake us up.” Violet said.

“Yeah? He doesn’t-”

“He was going to wake us up so we didn’t miss the boat!”

Lilac quickly got out of bed, grabbing a ribbon off of her bedside table and tying her hair out of her face. “He didn’t wake up any of you?”

“No! Babbitt got out and woke Soli up, but Uncle Monty-”

“Maybe he’s packing up some of the reptiles.” Lilac said, even as she felt her heart sink. “Let’s go check.”

“Lilac-” Klaus began.

“It’s okay.” Lilac said, her voice shaking. “It’ll be okay. Klaus, hold Sunny. We’ll just go check up on him. He probably just forgot.”

“Lilac-” Nick started.

Lilac moved to her door, pushing it open and waiting a moment for her siblings to follow. When they started to move, she raced ahead, and soon enough the children were all running down the stairs, starting to call for their Uncle.

They reached the Reptile Room, and were very, very scared to see the door swinging open.

“Uncle Monty?” Lilac called, and she pushed the door farther open, stepping inside and feeling incredibly cold.

On the far end of the Reptile Room, behind the desk, there was a figure sitting the chair, facing away from them. Lilac crept forwards, uncomfortably aware of how close her siblings were sticking to her, and how Klaus was starting to shake slightly, and how Sunny was starting to cry, and how Nick’s hands were going white with how much he was gripping onto Solitude, and how Violet grabbed onto Klaus’s arm and tried to hide her face so they couldn’t see her fear.

Lilac moved around the desk, took one look at Uncle Monty’s corpse, and then screamed.

#asoue #asoue netflix #asoue movie #a series of unfortunate events #six baudelaires au #six baudelaires official fic #the reptile room #mine #my fanfic

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sems-diarie · 6 years

Text

the endgame.

tony is such a witty character & writing banter w/ him is actually kinda fun. tony stark x reader

“You’re my wife,” Tony says. As if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if it’s basic-everyday-knowledge. He puffs out his chest and claims your maiden name like he’s forged your signature onto a marriage lisence.

You squint your eyes. “First of all, we’re not even married.”

“We’re not?”

You laugh, “Not at all.”

He raises a dark eyebrow, “Not even a little bit?”

Slowly, you set your cup of coffee on the glass table, now completely suspicious of Tony’s behavior. “What does a little married even mean?”

Tony’s lips twitch into a smile. You can tell he’s trying to keep a straight face because he can’t keep a straight face.

You lean back in the chair, tone flat at his flaky behavior. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on proposing.”

He doesn’t even seem phased by your hole-punching in his still very definite plans. “Oh no, absolutely not. I’d lose my mind.” His tone is light-hearted and playful, which is the only reason why you don’t launch your cup of lukewarm coffee into his face. “Have you even met you? Do you know how stubborn you are? Tsk, you’d probably kill me in my sleep.”

You roll your eyes, flicking a page of Steve Rogers’ mission report. “Which is very telling of who you are, as a person.”

He smiles, “I require a lot of patience at my age.”

“You’re a whole grown man.”

“My point still stands.”

You peak up at where he stands, across from you and on the other end of the conference table, expression almost amused. “A child would need less help than you.”

He shrugs, easy and smooth. Just like his voice. “Grown men act like children all the time in America. It’s even written in our constitution. Didn’t Fury teach you that before he shoved his job down your throat?”

You set the file down and look at Tony honestly. No roll of your eyes, no annoyance in your face. “I asked for this job. And I happen to be very good at telling people what to do.”

“And it happens to pay a very generous salary.”

You blink, “Weren’t you just talking about marrying me? How did we even get here?”

Tony floats around the room in his theatrics. “So you do want to marry me.”

You click your pen repeatedly. “Did you break your neck? Jumping to that conclusion?”

Tony takes your sass in stride, even feels a little thrill shoot up his stomach, “Why even bring it back up? If you really didn’t wanna marry me, you’d let the conversation go and bask in the freedom of its absence.”

You frown thoughtfully, “Or, maybe I don’t like discussing my pay check with men who could buy my condo three times over and not even flinch.”

“Your condo is nice.” He turns, looking over the pieces of artwork you had James Buchanan Barnes hang up in exchange for safe refuge.

You jerk back, “You said that like you’ve actually been inside of it before.”

Tony spins. “Are we going to pretend that you didn’t have me over and cook a meal for me once?”

You sit up instantly. “Tony, that was an accident—“

He shoves his hands into his suit pockets. “How does one accidentally cook dinner for another person—“

“You know you came over uninvited because you wanted to give me back those S.H.I.E.L.D. blueprints you stole from my office. Let’s not play.”

He tips his head in silent agreement, fingers wiggling restlessly inside the pockets of his pants. Then, he takes quick and light steps towards the table and pushes his knuckles against the cold glass. He leans over, and the table isn’t wide enough to keep him from nudging into your personal space. Tony stares at you, eyes moving left to right as though he’s searching for something.

“So you’re telling me, if I proposed, right now, this very second, you’d look me in my eyes and tell me no.”

You take another sip of your coffee and glance up; your body language matches his nonchalant tone. “You’re gonna propose to me in the conference room? How unromantic. I deserve better than that, Anthony.”

Tony snatches the Starbucks cup — “Tony, what the fuck!” — and makes haste for the door. He tosses the cup into the trash can and you‘re a smooth two seconds from calling security. You only decide against it when he turns back to look at you, and all of the playfulness in the air is sucked it of the room.

He stands tall, but instead of his usual smirk of cockiness, it’s a frown of sincerity that takes its place. Not even the hint of a joke lies between the lines on Tony’s face.

“You’re the endgame for me, you know that?”

And to Tony’s surprise, you smile. And it’s real and genuine and so bright it makes Tony’s heart stutter. Makes his palms sweaty, and his chest tighten, and makes him want to say it over and over again.

You’re my endgame. My last love. The only one that’s mattered in a long, long time.

#i did a tony fic?????#what the fuck?????#sksk ive grown up since my tony hating days #tony stark #anthony stark #tony stark imagines #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark/reader #tony stark x you #tony stark/you #iron man #iron man imagine #iron man imagines #iron man x reader #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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millennial-medusa · 6 years

Text

Help Me Piece It All Together, Darling

This was just supposed to be a little Jasiper drabble for my Baseball AU, but I love these two so much and it got away from me and, well...here’s 11k words of them being idiots and honestly barely any baseball. It is absolutely as cheesy as it sounds.

This is set their sophomore year, so earlier than the other fics I’ve written for this au.

Jason x Piper, rated T, read on ao3

Jason Grace might just be the death of her.

She’d thought he was attractive as soon as she’d started going to baseball games last year and spotted him from the stands. She’d thought he was gorgeous when she’d approached him at that bar a few months ago, the couple drinks in her system giving her the courage to toss her hair and tease him a little, the resulting blush across his cheeks and the electric blue of his eyes weakening her knees.

But now, sitting in the library watching him help Leo through a research paper with all the patience and kindness and—yes, she’d admit it, grace, no pun intended—of a seasoned kindergarten teacher, she was positive he was the most beautiful person she’d ever met.

And this was a problem.

It was a problem because Piper, despite being a decent flirt when she wanted to be, had absolutely zero skills in terms of getting a guy to date her. She’d had her fair share of one night stands and casual hookups, but those were easy; the kind of guys that were willing to do one night stands were willing to do them with anyone decently attractive and emotionally detached. Piper checked those boxes pretty well, minimal work required.

But Jason wasn’t one of those guys. The more time she spent with him, the more obvious it was that he was the kind of guy to hold open doors and only kiss on the third date and ask for a lady’s favor before going to fight a dragon for her hand because he was literally a knight in shining armor, and it sucked because Piper was pretty sure she was the scullery maid in that scenario. Or the evil step-sister. Or the dragon.

(Okay, she reasoned, she wasn’t that bad. She wasn’t evil. Just hopeless and delusional. One of the nameless court ladies who swooned at a glance from the knight, but was overlooked in favor of the lovely and virtuous princess he would live happily ever after with.)

So a crush on Jason was a terrible, awful, absolutely horrendous idea, but for some reason her heart didn’t get the message her brain was so desperately signaling to it with red flags and emergency flares, because it kept picking up speed with every blindingly white smile he sent her from across the table.

(What had she just been saying about swooning?)

“But I say right there what it’s about,” Leo was complaining, gesturing to his laptop screen.

“No, that’s your topic sentence for that paragraph,” Jason explained. He ran a hand through his already mussed hair.

Piper wanted to run her own hands through it, tugging on the blonde locks while her tongue explored his mouth.

“Isn’t that what a topic sentence is supposed to do?”

“Yes, but you don’t have a thesis. Or an introduction.”

“Why would I need one of those when you made me write that abstract thing that explained the whole paper anyway? I still maintain that invalidates even needing to write a paper, by the way.”

“Leo, have you ever written an essay in your life?”

Leo’s eyes darted to Piper’s, and twin smiles stretched slowly across their faces.

“Oh yeah,” Leo answered, turning back to Jason. “I’ve written tons, and they were fantastic. Totally winners.”

Piper bit back a laugh. “Honestly, Leo’s written some of the finest essays of our generation. I’m incredibly proud of my—ah, of his work,” she added.

Jason’s brow furrowed—in a non-totally adorable and distracting way, of course—as he glanced back and forth between the two of them.

“Leo,” he repeated slowly, fixing him with a stern gaze, “have you ever written an essay in your life?”

“Define ‘written.’”

“Are you serious?” Jason’s eyebrows hit his hairline, and Piper didn’t bother to hold back her laughter. “How did you get through high school? How did you get through all of last year?”

Leo grinned over at him. “Wilderness school didn’t assign too many essays, and when they did, they didn’t read them closely enough to realize the similarities in Piper’s and my writing styles.”

Jason’s eyes widened before landing on Piper. “You—you wrote his essays for him? For all of high school?”

Piper shrugged. “Like he said, there weren’t that many to write. Besides, I can knock out a three page paper in less than an hour, and Leo did lots of my math assignments to pay me back.”

“Yes, she drove a hard bargain, but every equation was worth it to not have to analyze Jane Eyre," Leo sighed.

“What can I say? The rates are high, but I provide excellent customer service.”

“Absolutely. I’d give you four stars on yelp.”

“Only four? That rhetorical analysis of Mark Antony’s speech got you a 98!”

“Sure, the quality is great, but your options are limited. You’re not writing this essay, for example.”

“You’re right, the uses of obscure elements is a little out of my scope of provided services. That’s what you get for taking chemistry.”

“What good are you comm majors if you can’t even write my essays for me?”

“You committed plagiarism for four years and got away with it?” Jason interrupted with a harsh whisper.

“Relax, Sparky, the teachers didn’t care what we did as long as we sat quietly,” Piper laughed.

“Which, naturally, we always did,” Leo added. “We’re both known for our ability to sit in silence and behave just like we should.”

Jason shook his head. “I have no idea how I ended up with the two of you for friends.”

“Aww c’mon, you know you love us,” Leo crooned.

Jason chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “You’re lucky I do. I would not risk having ‘aiding and abetting criminals’ on my record for anybody else.”

With that, the air shifted. Piper felt her stomach drop, and her eyes met Leo’s again, but this time the knowledge that passed between them was not of an inside joke. The laughter had disappeared from their expressions, and Jason noticed.

“Guys?” he asked tentatively, glancing between the two of them nervously before landing on Piper. “Is everything okay? Did I say someth—”

“So I don’t have a thesis,” Leo interrupted, “what is that, exactly?”

Jason was still studying Piper, who was avoiding his gaze. She could feel his eyes, all too perceptive, roaming over her drawn face and tensed shoulders, but she focused resolutely on the textbook in front of her.

“Your thesis statement sums up your argument and the key points you’re using to prove it,” she spoke up, her gaze trained on Leo now. “It’s like, a shortened version of the back of a book. Or a highlights reel. Or a movie trailer.”

Leo looked back at her blankly. “So…another thing that sums up the whole paper. Why do I have to write the whole paper if I can prove it in one sentence?”

Piper rolled her eyes, but, to his credit, Jason managed a small smile. “It doesn’t prove your claim, it just gives a little preview of how you’re going to prove it. It gives the reader an idea of what to expect,” he explained, far more patiently than Piper ever could have. She was good with words, but even Leo exceeded her patience at times like these.

Jason was just so good. Piper couldn’t think of anybody deserving of him, especially not herself.

Her heart ached.

Over the past three months, Jason had fit seamlessly into Leo and Piper’s lives, clicking instantly. She and Jason were easy friends in their own right, getting pizza together or hanging out in the apartment when Leo was out. Of course, she’d befriended Percy, Annabeth, and many of the other team members and their assorted friends in the same amount of time, but her connection to Jason was just…different, somehow. And not just because she was perilously close to falling in love with him already.

Leo would always be Piper’s best friend—they’d been through so much together that losing him wasn’t even a possibility to Piper, they were stuck with each other for life—but Jason, even after only three months, was already a close second. After their initial meeting of tipsy flirting, they’d bonded quickly over their shared love of baseball and Disney movies.

So now Piper knew just how kind and genuine of a person he really was. She also knew how much of a disaster she was, and how much he didn’t deserve to have to put up with that.

So she suffered in silence, hoping her little crush would go away painlessly and soon. The way her stomach flipped when Jason glanced over at her again, his eyes still slightly apprehensive, seemed to insist she would not be getting an easy out.

When she tuned back into the boys’ conversation, Jason was asking Leo when the paper was due.

“Tomorrow?” he yelped at Leo’s answer. “And you waited until now to ask for my help? Leo, you have six more pages to write, we’re gonna be here all night!”

“Nice rhyme, Dr. Seuss,” Leo teased, but at the look Jason gave him, he ducked his head guiltily. “I know, honestly I didn’t think writing a dumb essay would take that long,” he mumbled. “You guys can go home if you want, it’s pretty late and finals are in a few days and I’m sure I can figure this out—”

Piper just snorted. “Not going anywhere, Valdez. We’re a team.”

“She’s right,” Jason chimed in, patting Leo lightly on the shoulder. “I meant it when I said I’d help. If we have to stay until the paper is due, then that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Leo smiled at both of them, and they went back to work.

—

Three hours later, Piper felt her eyelids drooping. It was only 10 PM, but she'd had gotten up early and worked all day, so she could already tell staying up with Leo was gonna be rough. The boys, she noted, were looking a little frazzled too, so she stood and told them she was going on a coffee run.

Jason frowned. “It’s late, Pipes, are you sure you should be walking across campus alone?”

Warmth spread through her at his concern, but she shrugged it off and her jacket on. “I’m a tough girl, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Leo cut him off. “Just go with her, Jason, I need some time alone anyway.”

Piper nodded at Jason’s questioning glance, but she glared daggers at Leo when Jason turned to grab his coat. Leo just gave her a shit eating grin; he’d picked up on Piper’s crush early on and frequently found excuses to leave them alone together.

A few moments later, Piper and Jason were walking out into a wall of freezing December air that had Piper tugging her coat around her and wishing she could cuddle up to Jason. Strictly to conserve heat, naturally.

They chatted easily as they walked to a small coffee shop about five minutes away, the only one on campus open 24 hours.

“Are your finals bad?” Jason asked, his words a puff of steam in the frigid air.

Piper shook her head and buried her hands deeper in her pockets. “Nah. My media law final is the only one I’m really worried about, but I think I’ll do okay. What about yours? Is that political theory stuff still giving you trouble?”

“I’ve been studying for it, so I think I’ll be okay,” he shrugged.

“I wish I had the self discipline to already be studying for finals,” Piper grumbled. “I can’t get myself to study before the last minute.”

Jason laughed at her sullen expression. “You just need the right motivation, like a reward or a study buddy.”

“You offering?” She caught his eye and smirked; Jason blushed a pretty shade of pink that spread down his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his peacoat. Piper found herself wishing she could see just how far down that blush travelled.

“Yeah—I mean, if you wanted,” Jason stammered, looking hurriedly away from her.

Piper cringed inwardly; she hadn’t meant to embarrass or pressure him. But she had to admit, having someone to make her study would be helpful—Leo was no help at all and Annabeth had her hands full with Percy—and she couldn’t bring herself to say no to spending time with Jason, even if she should for her own sake.

“I’d like that,” she found herself saying, and his resulting smile was so bright she forgot all about the awkwardness of the previous moment. His teeth were so perfect and straight, he could’ve done toothpaste commercials, she noted. And his lips—well, Piper had spent plenty of time thinking about them already; they were a little thin and a little chapped, but they were so frequently pulled into a smile and looked so inviting she knew she wouldn’t mind the roughness if they were working with her own. She wanted to bite the scar on his upper lip—where had it come from? She’d have to ask him sometime.

Her eyes traveled upward then, following the gentle slope of his nose to his bright blue eyes. Piper usually preferred brown, like her own, but Jason’s were so genuinely captivating, fringed with long, blonde lashes, that she longed to drown herself in them.

That thought snapped her out of her haze: she wasn’t this much of a fucking sap, and she couldn’t afford to be thinking things that sounded like they were written by a lovesick thirteen year old. She couldn’t take her eyes off his, though, and she noted the way they dropped to her mouth as her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

He was looking at her mouth. And his eyes were different somehow—darker? Or maybe that was just the shadowy lighting, but either way he was definitely staring at her mouth and either he was going to stop and kiss her or she had something stuck in her teeth. She really hoped it was the former, because they’d gotten so close their arms were touching as they walked and his eyes were flitting up to her own and back down again, and Piper prayed, oh she prayed that she was right because she was leaning forward now so there was no going back and—

Unfortunately, staring prolongedly at a boy who probably wasn’t even into her meant that Piper didn’t notice the patch of ice she was walking towards.

She shrieked as her feet slid out from under her, the dark pavement suddenly racing towards her. She braced for impact, but instead of freezing concrete to the nose, she felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and hauling her back to her feet.

Before she could fully process what was happening she found herself pressed entirely up against Jason’s front, his arms securely around her waist and his wide eyes blinking down at her from behind his glasses. Her hands settled on his chest as they stared at each other, and then slid down to grip his forearms. Neither his hands nor his gaze shifted.

Piper swallowed hard before noting just how nice his arms felt, even through his coat. All those workouts and baseball practices had really paid off.

Jason’s cheeks were stained crimson again—he blushed a lot, and Piper adored it—but he started laughing.

“Yeah, uh, I guess they have,” he said. Suddenly his eyes went wide. “Not—not that you’re heavy, or anything. Because you aren’t. I mean, you’re like, average weight I assume? For a girl your height? I don’t really know, I haven’t caught very many people—”

Piper was mortified her comment had been spoken aloud, but thankfully Jason’s own stammering had shifted the focus off of her.

“What?” she asked, cutting him off with a raised eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you don’t regularly swoop in and catch people? And here I thought you were some kind of blonde Superman. It’s kind of a let down that you don’t save the day all the time.”

Jason grinned, a little sheepishly, but without most of the previous nervousness. “Haven’t noticed too many people falling.”

Piper’s heart hammered in her chest, and surely he could feel it with the way they were still pressed together. Then you must be blind, she wanted to say.

Instead, she stepped back, letting his arms fall away from her. She instantly felt the chill seep into her as though she weren’t even wearing a coat.

“Guess it’s just me, then,” she quipped, tossing him a smile as they headed toward the coffee shop again. They were nearly there. “Figures, I’m pretty clumsy.”

A small smile appeared on Jason’s face at that. Piper saw him attempt to subtlety lengthen his strides—attempt being the key word, because it wasn’t subtle at all—and reached the door first, just in time to open it for her, ever the perfect gentleman. “Hey, every princess needs a little saving now and then,” he said.

This time, Piper was the one blushing.

—

Piper McLean was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Jason had never been great with girls. He knew there had been girls who’d liked him in the past, definitely more than a few who’d flirted with him, but he never had much interest. The only relationship he’d ever had was with Reyna in high school, and that had been short lived; Jason cared about her deeply but not romantically, and Reyna…well. Reyna had ended up dating his older sister.

Where was he going with that? Oh, he was bad with girls. Right.

So when he’d seen Piper across that bar in September, he’d nearly panicked. She was gorgeous, looking him up and down with eyes that were shifting color, and she seemed to approve of what she saw, but Jason couldn’t flirt to save his life when he was sober, let alone several drinks in. Luckily she’d been about as drunk as he had, so she hadn’t minded his inability to keep up with her.

Since that night, Jason couldn’t get her out of his head. She was beautiful and brilliant and funny, and they just matched. The more time he spent with her, the harder he fell, and he knew it would end badly because she was clearly out of his league—but that didn’t stop him.

Being around her and knowing she would never be interested in him was torture, but if it meant he could make her laugh and watch her re-braid her hair and listen to the little songs she made up under her breath when she thought he couldn’t hear, then he’d gladly suffer every day of his life.

They’d gotten the coffee and headed back to the library after the rather embarrassing incident outside the shop (he wanted to die a little remembering how he’d basically called her heavy, and that he’d stood there and not let her go like some kind of clingy creeper. It was worth it to get to hold her like that—it just felt right—but still. And had he really called her a princess in need of saving? As if Piper needed him to save her. Piper was more like a badass queen who slew her own dragons, so Jason really had no idea what had possessed him to make that comment).

In any case, they’d made it through the rest of the night without any more awkward moments, and now, at nearly 4 AM, Leo was finishing up his paper. Jason’s eyelids had been drooping for the past hour even with the enormous amount of coffee he drank, and Piper had slumped forward and fell asleep on her arms some time ago. Leo, however, somehow managed to maintain his ridiculously high energy levels, which struck Jason as a little concerning. Did he ever sleep?

“Okay,” he was saying now, his fingers flitting frantically over the keyboard, “what if I shifted this quote down here, and I could add something up here about the chemical bonding process?”

Jason shook his head to wake himself up. It didn’t work. “Uh, yeah, if you’ve got more to say about…about uh, chemical bonding, I say go for it, man.”

He looked over at Piper. One of her arms was extended across the table in front of her, and the other was bent next to it. Her head rested on them at an angle that didn’t look comfortable to Jason, but either didn’t bother Piper or the discomfort was outweighed by her exhaustion. Her hair was a mess, thrown across her shoulders and sticking to her face. Jason’s fingers twitched on the table, wanting to brush it back.

Even when she was messy and undone and practically drooling onto her oversized flannel, Piper still made Jason’s heart skip a beat. It wasn’t that she was traditionally beautiful at all times (because that was just unrealistic), but she was her own kind of beautiful, and it was the most breathtaking kind Jason had ever seen.

He must have been staring, because Leo nudged his shoulder and shot him a knowing grin that heated Jason’s cheeks. “I’ve got this covered here, if you wanna take Piper to bed.”

Jason’s face went full red at that. “What? I-I wouldn’t—she’s, I mean that’s not really—”

And then Leo was laughing, laughing way too loudly for four in the morning. “Relax, Grace, I just meant take her back to our place. This is basically all written, but I’ll probably stay a couple more hours to finish editing and then print it and turn it in while I’m up, so I’m not gonna be able to take her back. And I don’t…I don’t like her walking alone at night, even if she says she can,” he added quietly, suddenly more serious. Jason nodded in agreement. The idea of Piper going out alone at night on a college campus made his stomach turn. He knew how a lot of guys their age could be and wouldn’t put it past them to try something, as horrible as that was.

And the thought of one of them trying something with Piper made him want to punch someone’s teeth out.

“You sure you’re okay here?” he asked. “I can stay if you need more help.”

Leo shook his head. “I’m good now. But listen…thanks. I know this isn’t your ideal Saturday night, so, um, thank you.” He kept his gaze down, fiddling with his fingers like he always did, but this time it seemed more…agitated?

Nervous, Jason realized.

He gripped Leo’s shoulder tightly until the other boy met his gaze. “Remember what Piper said about us being a team? That includes me now, and I’ve always got your back, Leo.”

A grin lit up Leo’s face, and he shoved the hand off his shoulder playfully. “Welcome to Team Valdez and the Crew, then!”

“That name needs a little work.”

“What are you talking about? It’s perfect!”

“I somehow doubt Piper signed off on it, and I may be late to the game but I know I hold some kind of veto power.”

“Fine, we can workshop it. Later. Right now you need to get the beauty queen home, because if she stays like that any longer I’m pretty sure her arm is gonna lose blood flow.”

Jason chuckled and moved to Piper, trying to gently wake her. It took a few tries—wow, she was a deep sleeper—but eventually she stirred.

“Hmm? Jason?” Her eyes blinked in the fluorescent lights of the library, and closed again.

“Yeah, Pipes, it’s me,” he reassured quietly. “Come on, let’s get your coat on.”

“Coat?”

“Yep, I’m gonna get you home.”

“Oh. ‘S cold outside.” Jason had to keep himself from laughing at her slurred words. Half awake was as good as he was going to get, he supposed, but damn, it was too adorable for him to mind.

“Yep, that’s what the coat’s for.”

“Where’s—” she yawned dramatically— “where’s m’purse?”

“On your shoulder.”

“…oh. Hmm.”

Piper’s eyes were barely open, and he honestly didn’t trust her to not walk into a wall or something, so Jason hesitantly wrapped his arm behind her waist, gripping her hip to keep her pressed to his side. She immediately nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder and sighed, and Jason’s brain sort of broke for a moment. He stared down at the top of her head, his heart pounding.

That doesn’t mean anything, he told himself. Pull it together, man. She’s basically asleep. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

So he shook his head in an attempt to clear it and started to steer her to the exit.

“Grace!”

Jason turned back a little to half face Leo. “Yeah?”

“Be careful with her. She’s more fragile than she looks.” The normal teasing lilt to his voice was there, but his eyes were serious, piercing into his own with purpose.

Jason nodded solemnly. He knew Leo meant more than just to be careful tonight, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he intended beyond that. What Jason did know is that he would never hurt Piper.

Besides, his own heart seemed much more at risk than hers.

—

Jason was living in a dorm this year and didn’t have a car, but luckily Piper and Leo’s apartment was only a short walk from campus. Plus, the longer they walked, the longer Piper was wrapped up in his arm, pressed against his side and nuzzling into him like a kitten.

By the time they reached her apartment building, the chill and the walk had woken Piper up some, and she was a bit more conscious of what was going on, but Jason noted giddily that she made no attempt to move away from him. In fact, she may have even pushed closer, but that could have been his imagination. Besides, it was probably just because it was below freezing and she wasn’t completely awake.

(He really didn’t mind.)

Finally he had to release her so she could kick off her shoes and shrug her coat off and fall into bed. He felt colder without her, and almost…hollow, like something was missing where she had been? But that was just silly. They were just friends, and he was fine with that. He had to be.

“Okay, well if you’re good I’m gonna—” he gestured towards her door, starting to leave, but her soft voice calling his name stopped him in his tracks.

“Just crash here,” she said sleepily, her eyes barely open. “It’s late.”

“Only if you don’t mind,” he said, but he was praying she would insist because it was freezing, and his dorm was on the other side of campus, and he was almost as exhausted as she was.

“‘Course not.” She yawned again, and her eyes drifted shut. “C’mere.”

Jason blinked, confused. “Um, I’ll just sleep on the couch, Pipes,” he tried to explain, but even in her mostly-asleep state she was pushy.

“Couch is lumpy and I want you to stay here,” she insisted, though her slurred words made her a little less intimidating than usual.

Still, Jason hesitated. She was so tired she was practically drunk, she could not be thinking straight. She’d probably wake up tomorrow and wonder what was wrong with him that he didn’t ignore her.

“C’mon, Sparky, I’m cold,” she pleaded, and when he glanced back at her, her eyes were open and clear. “Please?”

As Jason toed off his sneakers, draped his coat over her desk chair, set his glasses carefully aside, and crawled into bed beside her, he was cursing himself for being so weak for this woman. He knew he’d regret it tomorrow, but, well…he just couldn’t say no to her.

—

Piper woke suddenly. She sat up and glanced around blearily, trying to find what had woken her up. Her eyes landed on her clock. It was 7:28 on a Sunday morning, why the hell—

A noise came from beside her, a kind of strangled yelp, and she jumped. Jason was lying in her bed—Jason was lying in her bed, oh, God—Jason was lying in her bed—and he was shaking, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his frowning forehead. His chest was heaving, and Piper realized with a clench of her heart that he was having a nightmare.

She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat beneath her fingers. Then she shook him gently, trying to wake him up.

“Jason,” she whispered, repeating it louder when he didn’t stir.

Suddenly he jolted awake, gasping, his eyes glancing about the room frantically before landing on her face and softening.

“Piper?” he croaked.

“Yeah, Jason, it’s me,” she answered softly, unthinkingly combing his hair back from his forehead. He leaned into her touch and her heart nearly stopped. What was she doing? It had been stupid of her to ask him to stay; he would’ve been fine on the couch.

He seemed to notice something was off, and he coughed awkwardly as he sat up. “I should go,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes. “I-I shouldn’t have stayed, I’m sorry, you were basically asleep, you—”

“I asked you to stay, and I meant it,” she insisted. It was the truth, even if she was kicking herself now for practically forcing herself on him. He paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. Together, they waited in silence for something Piper couldn’t name.

“What was it about?” she asked hesitantly. Her voice was small and cautious. “The dream.”

Jason’s head lifted and their eyes met, sparks lighting up Piper’s spine. Her nickname for him was more accurate than he realized.

But he hesitated, and Piper rushed to add, “If you don’t wanna talk about it that’s fine, I shouldn’t have pried, I just thought maybe—”

“My mom,” he answered quietly. “My real mom. She—well, she was an alcoholic, so Thalia and I got taken away from her when I was really little. I barely remember her, just bits of memories here and there. I was only two, so...I found out later my dad is some politician, barely even knew we existed, and his wife hated us so she made sure they didn’t have to take us. We were put into foster care, different families. Took us years to find each other again.”

His gaze hadn’t wavered from hers, and Piper could see the pain in his eyes. She hadn’t meant to make him relive something that hurt so much, she hadn’t realized.

“Jason,” she breathed, her hand finding his. He gripped it hard.

“She died,” he said, his eyes finally dropping from hers to settle on their hands. “Went sort of crazy and drank herself to death a couple years after we were taken away. I only found out years later, when Thalia told me. I never…I didn’t get to see her again.”

His hand was shaking in hers, so Piper squeezed harder. Minutes ticked by in silence, and she wasn’t sure how else to comfort him. There was nothing she could think to say to make him feel better, and it didn’t feel right to try to brush past what he’d just admitted to her. He’d opened up a huge part of himself to her.

Maybe that called for her to do the same.

“I never knew my mom,” she said finally. Jason glanced up at her earnestly, questioningly. She took a shaky breath and continued, “My dad’s a movie star and all so I guess it could be pretty much anyone, but he never talks about her and shuts down when I ask, so I gave up on trying a long time ago. He was never really around either though, with his film schedule and press stuff. He tried, for a while anyway, when I was little. He used to come home more often and take me to the beach, but I was always a difficult kid and pretty soon it was visits for a day every couple weeks when he could make the time to fly out and see me. Pretty sure he didn’t even want a kid, but he was stuck with me.”

Jason was watching her, studying her face openly, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead she focused on their entwined hands, as he had done. Her fingers played with his as she talked, and she took comfort in the fact that he let her.

“Anyway, Leo and I met in middle school and he got me through it. His mom was really sweet to me, way nicer than the nanny my dad hired to watch me most of the time. That’s around the time I…I started acting out? You know, doing stupid stuff to get my dad to pay attention to me, even if it was just to scold me or whatever. Leo was happy to help, and after his mom died and he got stuck with his awful relatives it just got worse, and we probably spent most of our time in detention. It wasn’t enough for me, though, and it kept escalating, and I—I was in a really bad place, but my sophomore year I got caught shoplifting some clothes.”

She paused to look up at him, expecting to see judgement written across his face, but she found only the same earnest expression as before.

“It was dumb, and my dad’s lawyers got me off without anything on my record somehow, but I finally got my dad’s full attention. He flew all the way home just to chew me out.” She laughed a little at the absurdity. “It was really bad, and the next week I was at wilderness school, which was like this boarding school for troubled kids out in the middle of some bumblefuck Nevada desert.”

“Shit, Piper,” Jason said, “I’m sorry.”

Piper waved him off. “Please, even the racial slurs those kids threw at me is nothing compared to what you just told me, and Leo acted up enough to end up out there with me, so it wasn’t the end of the world. I just thought I should be honest.”

Jason frowned. “You don’t owe me anything. I told you that stuff because I wanted to, Pipes. I trust you.”

“I know. I trust you too,” she answered, squeezing his hand. “So now that we’ve agreed that parents are shitty, wanna go back to sleep for a few hours?” She forced a smile and hoped he would miss the tension behind it.

He studied her a moment longer, but finally relented with a nod. Together they lay back down in Piper’s bed and drifted back into sleep.

Piper smiled to herself at the realization that they were still holding hands.

—

The second time Jason woke that morning was not to Piper’s voice calling him out of a nightmare, but to her hair in his mouth and Leo’s loud laughter, which was somewhat less pleasant.

Apparently they had shifted over the last few hours so they were no longer holding hands; rather, Piper was stretched out face down on top of him, one leg slung over his hips and her head nestled on his chest, hence the aforementioned hair in his mouth. Jason had instinctually wrapped his arms around her, and he thanked every deity he could think of that there was no morning…issue to deal with. The situation was embarrassing enough without it.

He stared down at her as she came to, blinking confusedly in the morning light before meeting his eyes. She seemed to realize where she was then and shot up, Jason’s arms jerking back immediately.

Leo laughed again from the doorway, wiping tears from his eyes. “Jason, man, I told you I didn’t mean it literally when I said take her to bed!” he was giggling, and Jason felt his face flush brightly.

He was gonna kill him.

“Leo, get out of my room before I murder you,” Piper snapped from behind her hands covering her face.

Never mind, Piper had it handled.

Leo did as she asked, but not before blowing them each a kiss and winking at Jason.

The pause that followed was tense, unsurprisingly.

“Piper,” he started, but she interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, I was asleep so obviously I didn’t really know what I was doing,” she rushed, sliding out of bed and hurrying around her room, searching the clutter until she found a hair tie to braid her hair back with as she talked. “I wouldn’t have—I mean, I shouldn’t have made you stay. Sorry.”

Jason grit his teeth. There was the rejection he’d been anticipating since last night. It hurt more than he'd expected, but it was his own fault. He'd known the risks. He should’ve just slept on the couch. He should’ve kept quiet about his mom. He should’ve stopped her, told her he wasn’t trying to pressure her into talking, into anything.

He should’ve known better.

“No, I’m sorry,” he muttered, trying to mask the hurt on his face and bending to put his shoes on. “I appreciate you letting me stay. I’m gonna head out.”

She may have nodded, or maybe she didn’t answer, or maybe she watched him go. He wasn’t sure, he walked out and didn’t look back.

—

Piper didn’t hear from him for the next several days, and kicked herself every time she checked her phone hoping to see a message from him. Of course he isn’t gonna text you, she chided, you basically told him you regretted letting him stay over right after he poured his heart out to you, and you were cuddling with him when he woke up. You’ll be lucky if he talks to you again.

So Piper went to Annabeth, the only person she’d actually told about her feelings for Jason, unsure of what exactly she was hoping for.

What she got was a frown over the carton of ice cream they were sharing.

“You’re taking all the cookie dough chunks,” Annabeth complained.

“No I’m not. Focus on the real issue here!”

“The issue of you not telling Jason how you feel? Because that’s the real issue.”

Piper rolled her eyes; they’d had this exact conversation about a million times already. “There’s no reason to ruin the friendship we’ve got because my stupid feelings got in the way.”

“You seem to think you’ve already ruined it,” Annabeth pointed out, nudging Piper’s spoon away from another chunk of cookie dough.

“It’s been three days, what am I supposed to think?”

“Maybe he got busy?” Annabeth suggested. “Maybe his phone got broken or lost, maybe he thought you didn’t want to hear from him. Have you tried texting him?”

Piper bit her lip and focused very hard on getting a decent spoonful of ice cream.

“You haven’t even tried texting him. Of course not. Piper, I thought you were good with guys!”

“I am!” she insisted. “Guys that I wanna sleep with and then never see again, or that I want to flirt with and not have to worry about their feelings. But Jason is all perfect and handsome and sweet and suddenly my brain feels like it’s been zapped by lightning.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Well he probably thinks you don’t want to hear from him and is agonizing over why you haven’t texted him.”

Piper perked up a little at that. “You think so?”

“I don’t know, Percy said he was really off Monday but seems mostly fine now, just distracted. Sounds like it could have something to do with why he hasn’t said anything.”

Piper chewed on her lower lip, mulling the possibilities over. Either he was distracted by what had happened Sunday—though she hoped that wasn’t the case—or something else had happened and that was keeping him preoccupied. She just had to figure out what was bothering him, and then maybe things could go back to normal.

“So you think I should text him?”

Annabeth sighed. “Honestly? I think you should both wake up and realize you’re obviously head over heels for each other. But since neither of you is going to admit it apparently, yes, I think you should text him before it gets weird.”

Piper grinned and snagged a hunk of dough before pulling out her phone.

hey, she typed. Very eloquent. Definitely summed up the “please talk to me I’m really sorry and I miss you also I might be falling in love with you” sentiment she was going for.

But, having nothing else she could think to say, Piper pressed send and waited.

She didn’t have to wait long. Less than a minute later, her phone buzzed with an answering, Hey!! from him. Piper grinned, just as another message followed: What’s up?

“He answer?” Annabeth asked around the spoon in her mouth.

Piper nodded as her fingers flew across the keyboard. just haven’t heard from you in a few days, everything ok?

Yeah everything is fine, I’ve just been busy. he answered. Piper smiled at his perfect grammar. She’d tried to explain to him once that he didn’t need to worry about that with her, but he’d furrowed his brow and asked why she wouldn’t want the same consideration he gave to everyone else. She’d laughed at his seriousness and let the issue drop. She glanced down when her phone buzzed again. Are you still in need of a study buddy?

Only if it’s you, she shot back. It was a little risky, but she figured it was just a casual friendly remark. No hidden truths to be found anywhere.

Her anxiety mounted a little when the three dots showed up at the bottom of the screen and then disappeared. Was that the wrong thing to say? Had that sent her crashing through the thin ice she’d been standing on with him and right into hot water?

But no, his answer was simply, Tomorrow, 7 PM at the library? and she breathed a sigh of relief.

make it the coffee shop and you’ve got a deal

Sounds good. See you then.

Piper grinned giddily down at the screen. Everything was okay, and their friendship was intact.

She looked up to see Annabeth smirking at her from the other side of the couch.

“Shut up,” Piper muttered. Annabeth only shrugged and returned to the ice cream.

—

The “study date”, as Percy and Leo insisted on calling it, went smoothly, much to Jason’s relief. He’d panicked after not hearing from Piper for so long, thinking that either his storming out or the waking up cuddling incident had upset her, so getting a text from her was a huge weight off his shoulders. He focused on everything, including baseball, a little better when he was on good terms with her. It was dangerous, he knew; he couldn’t afford to let every disagreement with a girl he’d only known a few months throw him off his game, but he couldn’t exactly help it. He’d just have to settle for keeping her happy. (Luckily for him, keeping Piper happy was becoming a top priority at an alarming rate. Or…perhaps that was unluckily.)

Things had just about returned to normal between the two of them, and they hung like nothing had changed. Which, Jason reminded himself, was true. Nothing had changed. He just knew for certain that she wasn’t interested in him the way he wanted her to be. But he’d known that before. So.

Jason was just reflecting on this when Leo caught up to him, leaving the locker room after the last practice of the semester.

“You missed an easy shot at the end there, you sure you don’t need a little more practice?”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s your average again?”

“Point taken. When are you headed home?”

“I’ve got one more final tomorrow and then I’m out. What about you?”

Leo looked down, his fingers tapping out an agitated rhythm on the shoulder strap of his bag. “I’m staying here, actually. Lotta money to fly to Houston, and I’ve got lots of stuff to work on here, so.” He shrugged.

“You’re from Houston?” Jason frowned. “I thought you and Piper went to school together.”

“We did. Piper lived at her dad’s little ranch house thing even while he was filming, supposedly so she didn’t ‘get sucked into the Hollywood stuff.’ Really it was because he didn’t want to deal with her.” Suddenly Leo glanced at him, eyes wide. “Shit, don’t tell her I said anything, yeah? I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

Jason waved him off. “I won’t, but it’s fine, she already told me about her dad.”

This seemed to interest Leo. “She did?” A small smile appeared on his face at Jason’s nod, which seemed…odd, for such a serious subject. “Anyway yeah, we knew each other in Texas before we both got banished to the desert.”

“So she’s going home to Texas?”

“Nah, her dad sold the property as soon as she went to college. He didn’t use it, so no point in keeping it if you don’t need somewhere to stash a kid, I guess.” Leo’s tone was bitter, and Jason got the impression Leo felt about the same way toward Tristan McLean as his daughter did. “Besides, Piper’s only going to L.A. for Christmas because she has to, and then she’ll be back. We spend every New Year’s together. It’s tradition.”

“You’re lucky,” Jason commented drily, “my foster mom is great and all, but she’s a little…I don’t know, militant? Makes holidays kind of stressful.”

Leo grabbed his shoulders and pulled him so they were facing each other in the middle of the sidewalk. “Come back for New Year’s.”

“What?”

“I’m serious, you can stay in the apartment until the spring semester starts. You’ll still have Christmas with your mom, but you can have a little fun with us for the new year!”

Jason frowned, thinking it over. “I don’t know, Leo…”

“Piper will be there, too.” Leo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Jason blushed.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t mind me staying for a couple weeks?”

Leo snorted and released his shoulders so they could walk again. “Please, Piper would love having you there.”

Jason started to ask what that meant, but before he could, Leo slapped him on the back.

“Great! Glad that’s settled. You’re gonna see Piper before you leave, right?”

“Um, I was planning on it, but Leo—”

“Smart man. Have a good break! See you at the end of the month!”

And then Leo was gone, leaving Jason with plans for the holidays and several questions.

—

“He what?”

Jason winced. He knew he shouldn’t have agreed without asking Piper first, but then again, Leo hadn’t left much room for debate.

“Yeah,” he answered once he’d swallowed the bite of pizza he’d been working on. “He kind of insisted, so now I guess I’m spending New Year's and the following couple weeks with you guys? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I can always tell him no,” he added, watching her chew her lip and resisting the urge to reach over and soothe it with his thumb.

“No!” she yelped, and immediately blushed. Probably remembering what had happened the last time he’d stayed with her, he figured. This plan was seeming worse with every passing minute. “It’s fine,” she amended more quietly, “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I’ll be sleeping on the couch, obviously,” he said with a dry smile. He’d hoped to reassure her, but her face seemed to fall, almost like…disappointment? But that didn’t seem right, unless she really didn’t want him there.

Her expression shifted almost immediately to one of excitement, though, and he didn’t have time to overthink anymore. “Right. It’ll be fun!” she was saying. “You can join in all our New Year’s Eve traditions, like drinking.”

Jason waited a moment for her to continue. She didn’t. “Oh, I thought you were listing things.”

Piper nodded, taking a sip of her soda. “I was.”

“So…?”

“That was the whole list.”

Jason laughed. “Of course. Well, it’s more traditions than I’ve got, so I’d be happy to join in.”

Piper’s answering smile lit up her whole face, and Jason had to swallow hard to keep his heart from jumping into his mouth. She was so beautiful it was just unfair.

—

As soon as Piper walked into their apartment on December 29th, she felt at ease again. Her Christmas had been stressful—which is completely unfair, by the way, it’s Christmas—because yeah, he was her dad, and he was trying and she got that, really she did, but she always felt a little on edge around him because, frankly, they didn’t know each other very well. It was easy for constant filming to get in the way of visiting your kid when you didn’t really want it in the first place.

So coming back to Leo, who always wanted her around and never made her feel awkward in the slightest, was an enormous relief.

“Hey, Beauty Queen, how’s it hanging?” he called from the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “but I don’t think anyone has used the phrase ‘how’s it hanging’ since, like, the seventies.”

Leo only shrugged, abandoning his bowl of cereal to grab her suitcase and carry it to her room. “I’m bringing it back. The seventies had some great trends.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for starters, I could rock a pair of bell bottomed pants and one of those shiny disco shirts.”

Piper laughed and wrapped him in a tight hug, which he returned enthusiastically. “I missed you, Valdez.”

“Don’t be such a sap. You were gone for like a week and a half.”

“I know, don’t remind me.”

“That bad, huh?” He pulled back to examine her face. “You guys fight?”

Piper shook her head and started unpacking. “I’m just always on edge when I’m there. I hate L.A.”

Leo nodded in solidarity. “Wanna order pizza?”

“Obviously.”

Leo grinned and pulled out his phone.

—

As soon as Jason walked through the door on December 31st, he was treated to the sight of Piper wearing a blue bra, a beanie, jeans, and a single sock. It was in interesting look, but Leo was enough to distract him in socks, boxer shorts, a glove, and a top hat.

Jason was more than a little confused, but had the presence of mind to be grateful that Leo’s outfit was weird enough to take his attention from Piper in just a bra. That thought had the unfortunate effect, however, of directing his attention right back to her though, because Piper was in just a bra and Jason’s brain was sort of short circuiting because holy shit Piper was in just a bra.

(And the pants or whatever, but who could be bothered to look that low when Piper. Was. In. Just. A. Bra.)

Focus on something else, he told himself. Don’t be a creep. That’s super weird and predator-y and you’re not even dating. Yes, Leo’s top hat. Stare at that. Just focus on the top hat. He mentally patted himself on the back for pulling that off.

“Hey,” Leo and Piper called in unison, not even glancing up from the cards in their hands.

“Um, hey,” he answered, pausing to allow one of them to jump in and explain just what exactly was happening. Neither did. “What’s, uh…what’s going on?”

“Strip or sip poker,” Leo answered, laying a card down with incredible focus.

“Sorry?”

“It’s like strip poker, but you have the option of taking a drink instead of losing an article of clothing,” Piper explained, finally looking up at him. “It’s, um…”

Jason could swear her cheeks got redder when their eyes met; he knew his certainly did. Her loss of words made him feel a little better about his own at her state of undress as well.

“It’s our New Year’s Eve tradition,” she finished finally, looking back down at her cards. “Shit, Leo!”

Leo laughed triumphantly at whatever had just happened in the game.

“I thought your tradition was just drinking,” Jason commented, removing his coat and wheeling his suitcase farther into the living room.

“Didn’t you hear the drinking part of the rules?” Leo asked, grinning up at him from his seat on the floor. “Come on, I’ll deal you in as soon as this round’s over, which should be soon with the way Piper’s playing.”

Piper flashed her middle finger at him.

“You guys don’t think it’s weird that you play strip poker together every year?” Jason asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Why would it be weird?” Leo asked.

“You’re playing a game favored by couples and horny groups of teenagers because the purpose is to get naked.’’

“The purpose is to have fun and get drunk,” Piper countered. “Besides, we only strip until we reach our underwear. Then you have to forfeit or chug your drink.”

“I don’t know if I can keep up with these rules,” Jason laughed.

“Well you’re gonna have to learn quick,” she said, smirking. “Hurry up, Grace, it’s only two hours ’til midnight and I’m not even tipsy!"

“Alright, alright, but someone’s gonna have to explain how poker works because I haven’t played it in years.”

Leo and Piper groaned in unison, and Jason grinned as he took a seat where they’d left room for him beside the table. It was good to be back, even if he knew he was about to end up either drunk or naked very quickly.

—

As it turned out, it was a combination of the two.

By the time 11:59 rolled around, Piper had lost her beanie and her other sock, Leo was down to his boxers and top hat, and Jason was left with just his underwear (purple briefs, one of his nicer pairs which he was now thanking himself from this morning for picking out) because, as he’d expected, he lost horribly. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as the other two, however, as he’d had more items of clothing to lose and had to drink less to keep up.

He was exceedingly thankful for that as well, because he had no idea what drunk Jason would say to a half naked Piper and he certainly didn’t want to find out.

There were 60 seconds until midnight, and Leo was trying to get the other two to come out on the fire escape with him, insisting it was the best spot to watch the fireworks. Piper was laughing, definitely drunk but lucid enough to know it was way too cold for that. Jason was insisting Leo get back inside, that it was below freezing and Leo was going to catch a cold out there in just his underwear.

(Leo countered this by explaining he was also wearing a hat.)

There were 45 seconds until midnight, and Leo was attempting to translate Auld Lang Syne into Spanish. Piper was singing the English lyrics, since she didn’t know much Spanish to begin with and translating that was just too difficult. Jason was listening to Piper sing, because she had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, which was unfair because everything else about her was beautiful too, and it was keeping him rooted in place, just staring at her.

(Piper caught his eye more than once and her skin took on a pretty deep pink tinge, but Jason figured it was probably just the alcohol.)

There were 15 seconds until midnight, and Leo was beginning to count down, watching his phone to keep track of the seconds as they disappeared into the ether. Piper was warning him to be careful, that he was too drunk to be waving his phone around out there, that he was going to drop it. Jason was watching her inch closer to him, each second vanishing along with an inch of space between them until she was pressed fully to his side and his heart rate was skyrocketing.

(Jason was pressing closer to her too, he realized.)

Three, Leo was shouting over the railing.

Two, Piper was looking up at him expectantly through her eyelashes.

One, Jason panicked.

“Happy New Year!” the three of them yelled together, and Jason bent down, and Piper’s eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed his lips to her cheek, softly, so softly.

He pulled back to see Piper frown, looking almost disappointed. Maybe he wasn’t misreading signals then, maybe Piper really did want him to kiss her, and he’d majorly screwed up. But he wouldn’t let their first (and maybe last, if he really was just tipsy and she wasn’t into him at all) kiss be a drunken fumbling one for the sake of the holiday with Leo jumping around in his underwear. His brain was cloudy and he wanted so badly to press Piper up against a wall and hear her sigh his name, but he knew that she deserved better than anything that would happen tonight.

So together, shivering, they pulled Leo back inside and, after a bit of celebrating and watching whatever fireworks they could see, pushed him in the direction of his room. They all needed to get some sleep.

Jason found himself standing with Piper outside her bedroom door, which was across from Leo’s. She was studying his face, and had the same look in her eyes she’d had at midnight. It had Jason’s breath quickening, and his hands ached to brush her hair behind her ear or find her waist and pull her against him.

“What’s your resolution?” Piper asked, catching him off guard. Her words were only the slightest bit slurred, and her eyes were bright, the color seeming to change in the dim light.

“Haven’t really thought about it,” he answered truthfully.

Piper nodded solemnly, eyes still locked on his. Her voice was gentle, and soothed him even as the heat passing between them riled him up. “Wanna know mine?”

Jason nodded.

“It’s to go after the things I want,” she said, just a whisper, nearly drowned out by the sounds of partying and fireworks from outside.

“I like it,” Jason said. “Does it apply to anything in particular?”

Piper smiled coyly, and Jason couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Mm hm. But I think what I want can wait for another night, when I’m a little more sober.”

Unable to formulate a response to that, Jason nodded mutely again.

She turned and opened her bedroom door. “Goodnight, Sparky.”

“Happy New Year, Pipes.”

Her eyes sparkled at him, and then the door shut and he was left alone in the hallway.

—

Piper spent the first half of the next day hungover and hoping she wasn’t as obvious last night as she thought she’d been, and the second half regretting ever having made that ridiculous resolution because Jason fit so well with her and Leo and she really wasn’t looking forward to the awkwardness that would surely follow his rejection of her, but there was always a chance the heat in his eyes and the tenderness of his kiss last night hadn’t been a drunken hallucination, and besides, Piper had committed to going after what she wanted. What she wanted was him, and every time she thought about backing out she reminded herself that mama didn’t raise no bitch.

(You know, metaphorically, because she had no idea who her mother was and her father certainly didn’t raise her and the nanny didn’t put in much effort, so really it was more like…Piper didn’t raise herself to be no bitch. But that was too complicated, so she stuck with the original phrase.)

Actually telling Jason how she felt was a little more challenging with Leo hanging about—yeah, he lived there, but that was hardly an excuse—so before she knew it they were going to bed and she was lying awake, and then sneaking past a sleeping Jason to sit out on the fire escape, bundled in a hoodie and a blanket.

It was freezing, but the cold air helped her think, so she didn’t mind it too much. It was still pretty early for her, only a quarter past midnight, but the stars blinking down at her made it feel later than it was. A car honked in the distance. Someone in another building was blasting music.

“Jeez, Pipes, it’s freezing out here.”

And then Jason was sitting next to her, and it didn’t feel quite as cold as it had before.

She unwrapped one side of the blanket and held it open for him, letting him scoot closer and wrap the blanket around himself.

“It’s a good system,” she said, looking back up at the stars. “We can share a blanket and body heat.”

She hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, just drinking in each other’s presence and watching their breath turn to steam in the air, curling and entwining before vanishing into the night. Finally, it was Jason who broke the spell.

“Piper?”

Just her name, but it was enough to knock the wind out of her. “Yeah?”

“How drunk were you last night?”

She kept her eyes on the sky above them. “Not drunk enough to say anything I didn’t mean.”

He was silent then, but she could feel his eyes on the side of her face, watching her. She wondered what he saw.

“Piper?” he asked again.

“Yeah?”

“I came up with a resolution.”

She turned to look at him, and suddenly his lips were pressed to hers and the blanket was sliding down because his hands were on her waist, hot even through her hoodie, pulling her closer and closer and closer and somehow it still wasn’t enough, so Piper pressed back, one hand bunched in his shirt and the other finding his cheek. She needed air so desperately but she couldn’t pull back, not when his tongue was sliding against hers and she finally felt like she could breathe, and her hand slid up to wrap his hair around her fingers like she’d always wanted to.

She was practically in his lap now, nipping at the little scar on his lip, and she still didn’t know where he’d gotten it but she didn’t really care at the moment. His hands slid up, one around her back to hold her against his front and the other to her hair where it tugged on her braid, making her moan into his mouth. He must’ve liked that because he kissed her harder and his tongue dipped deeper and Piper had just about lost all presence of mind when she suddenly put her hands on his chest and shoved herself back.

She stared at him, panting, and he stared at her right back with his cheeks flushed gorgeously and his eyes wide. He opened his mouth and she knew he was about to apologize, he was going to think she stopped him because she didn’t want him to kiss her, and of course that couldn’t be farther from the truth, so—

“Jason Grace, how dare you have the audacity to kiss me,” she took a brief pause to catch her breath, not long enough for him to start to apologize but enough to scare him a little (she couldn’t resist messing with him just a tiny bit when he looked so adorably shocked), “when you knew it was my resolution to go after what I want, which is obviously you!”

Jason’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. He blinked and frowned, and, “Um…what?”

“I was going to make the first move,” she sniffed. “I’d made a resolution and worked up the balls and even had a speech prepared. And backup speeches for different scenarios! I can’t believe you just ruined all those plans.”

Jason blinked several times, but a shadow of a smile had appeared on his face. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“I basically told you last night.”

“I didn’t realize you were preparing speeches, though. I figured I’d save you the trouble with a resolution of my own.”

“You stole my resolution, too. Who’s committing plagiarism now?”

“Not true. Your resolution was to go after what you want. Mine was much simpler.”

“Oh yeah?” she challenged, picking up the fallen blanket to ward off the chill seeping back through her clothes. “What was it?”

“‘Kiss Piper.’”

She brushed back a piece of hair that had come loose from her braid—probably when Jason’s hand had tangled in it and pulled, she realized, the memory causing heat to pool low in her belly—to cover her smile. “Well that’s just…boring. Where’s the pizzazz?”

When she turned to look at him again, his face was much closer than it had been, his warm breath ghosting over her lips in a way that made them tingle deliciously. “I thought there was plenty of pizzazz. You need a refresher?” he teased.

Piper sucked in a breath. She had been far less prepared for confident, sexy, teasing, ready-to-kiss-her-stupid Jason than she’d thought, and it might just kill her. Trying to regain some control of the situation, she raised an eyebrow and said, “It still doesn’t make up for all the work I put in. Now I’ll never get to fulfill my New Year’s Resolution. I’m a failure.”

“Would it make you feel better to give me one of the speeches you prepared?”

“No, I don’t have one for this scenario.”

“You prepared for multiple scenarios but none of them included me kissing you?”

“I thought it would be at least another month before you made a move on me, Sparky, so no.”

“That stings.”

Piper laughed and nuzzled her nose against his, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” he sighed, “I’m still pretty amazed I got it together long enough to kiss you. I’m sorry you didn’t get to give your speeches, though. You sure you can’t tell me one anyway?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, you’ll never know what I was going to say.”

Jason laughed. “You are a cruel woman, Piper McLean.”

She just shrugged, a smirk spreading across her face. “That’s what you get for stealing my moment.”

“How about I make it up to you?” His eyes were dark now, his nose brushing along hers and his voice deep. Piper shivered, and it wasn’t from the January air.

“I think we can work something out,” she whispered, and their mouths met in the middle as they reached for each other.

—

The first game of the season, Jason was third up to bat, and he was nervous as hell.

It was normal, especially for him. His nerves would decrease as the game went on, but that didn’t stop the shaking of his hands as he stepped up to the plate and took a couple warm up swings.

The first pitch veered to the left, just out of the strike zone.

The second was a fastball, and he was half a second too late.

He adjusted the straps on his gloves and tried to steady his breathing. This is normal, he told himself. You just need to pull it together and get your head in the game.

Great. Now I’m quoting High School Musical.

This, naturally, got I Don’t Dance stuck in his head, which wouldn’t even be an issue if Piper hadn’t made him watch the movies last week and sung that song at him constantly. (Not that he really minded; Piper’s singing voice was one of his favorite things in the world to listen to, even when accompanied by cheesy choreography.)

He glanced at the stands to his left, where he knew she was sitting with Annabeth, Grover, Hazel, and Percy’s family. He found her quickly, and she waved. His heart rate slowed, and the haze in his brain seemed to clear as he stepped back to the plate.

It probably wasn’t great to rely on her to keep him relaxed at bat. If they broke up, or fought, or even if she just missed seeing him play, he couldn’t afford to be off his game. He’d never had an issue working through his nerves before; he was sure he could do it without her, but it was so much easier to take one look at her and feel himself relax.

When he hit the ball way out to left field and made it to first with plenty of time to spare, he figured he didn’t mind relying on Piper so much. Watching her jump up and down, cheering in the stands, he got the feeling she wasn’t going anywhere.

#here it is #finally #jasiper #baseball au #otp: if i fall you're catching me #jason grace #piper mclean #fanfic #my writing #pjo #hoo

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danfanciesphil · 7 years

Note

How about they meet while teaching in the same school au? I know there are already ones like this but idk

i like this one.

thank you, honey x

It had never been Dan’s first choice, career-wise.

As a matter of fact, throughout his university years, he’d always looked upon his graduate friends with scorn if they’d gone into predictable, un-specialist jobs like marketing or real estate - things that have nothing to do with the degrees they spent three or four years obtaining.

But then university had ended, and Dan had been thrown, quite unprepared, into the cutthroat world of job-seeking.

He’d tried, of course, to find jobs in his field, but as it turns out, there aren’t many people in need of sociology majors nowadays. He’d flirted with the idea of doing a masters course, but that shit is expensive, and by the time he’d gotten around to considering applications, the deadline had already passed.

So, he’s twenty-two, fresh out of Manchester University, all but still clutching his freshers-week wristband, with no prospects whatsoever, and a rapidly depleting bank account. With his rent deadline looming over closer, he decides to just suck it up and look on his university’s ‘graduate scheme’ page.

Marketing is definitely out, as Dan can’t stand the way people in those jobs talk. The idea of driving the young, naiive hopefuls that he once was around to different shitty flats and house shares in a company Fiat, lying through his teeth to persuade them to part with their maintenance loans for a damp-riddled, cockroach-infested prison cell is also too much to bear.

So, with reluctance, Dan starts looking through the adverts for the one job he thinks he can just about handle, and that might have a chance of taking him on:

Teaching Assistant.

Low pay, early mornings, and screaming adolescents five days a week. The idea of it iss not appealing.

Nevertheless, he diligently sends out his CV and some cover letters to local secondary schools, then quickly closes all tabs pertaining to it in order to watch some Stranger Things.

The following morning, he wakes up to an email inviting him for an interview.

Four months of training, a fuck ton of reading manuals, health and safety guides, curriculums and other such palava, Dan finds himself being led down an eerily empty school corridor towards his first actual class.

Even the tapping of his shoes against the shiny linoleum floor of this place is beginning to bring back horrible high-school memories. He shudders, asking himself for the umpteenth time why the fuck he ever took this stupid job.

Think of the money, he tells himself.

“…so don’t expect the students to be too enthused.” Vice Principal Green finishes, briskly striding along just ahead of Dan.

“I’m sorry?” Dan asks.

Vice Principal Green looks over his shoulder. “I was just saying that as it’s the first day back, the students will likely be a little more… sluggish than usual.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry!” Vice Principal Green says brightly, his cheeks rosy as he gives Dan a broad smile. “I’m sure you and Mr Lester will get them back into their regular rhythms soon enough!”

“Yeah,” Dan says, smiling back. He doesn’t add that the idea of motivating a shit-ton of sullen teenagers to do schoolwork after a month and a half of fucking around all summer is petrifying. “Mr Lester? Is that-”

“That’s who you’ll be assisting for your first lesson, yes.” VP Green says, coming to a halt outside a door marked ‘Classroom 9′. “He’s been a history professor here for two years now. You’re in luck, as he’s an excellent teacher, and particularly popular amongst the students. It’s always much harder for the TA’s if the teacher is incompetent or disliked.”

“Oh…” Dan says, feeling his stomach quiver. “Well, that’s… good, I guess.”

“Yes, there’s no better person to get your bearings with, I assure you.”

Dan nods, eyeing the closed door in front of them with a modicum of fear. Behind it is a class of twenty-six Year Nine students, all of whom he is going to have to help this ‘Mr Lester’ to control.

Dan’s never liked teenagers anyway. He didn’t even like being one.

Why the hell did he take this job?

“Well then, unless you have any more questions, it’s almost nine o’clock.” VP Green says, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Ready to be thrown to the lions?”

Dan laughs politely, but it comes out sounding nervous and weak. Embarrassingly, VP Green places a reassuring hand on Dan’s shoulder, smiling that broad smile again.

“Brave face, Daniel!” VP Green says. “Or should I say, Mr Howell.”

Dan swallows, hating the sound of that already. “Right.”

Then, VP Green is removing his hand and opening the door in front of them.

There’s a hum of chatter amongst the students as they converse excitedly about their summers, catching up with one another after the long break. They’re sat in pairs, two to a table, though they lean across chairs and kneel beside one another in order to be able to speak with their friends.

Just as Dan remembers it, the faint scent of Lynx body spray and that suffocating girly equivalent hovers in the air. Apart from the fact that the girls in this class seem to have Cara Delevigne eyebrows painted onto their faces, and the boys are all sporting that haircut with the shaved sides and the quiff, Dan imagines he could be walking into his own class back in Reading.

War flashbacks attack him from all sides.

“Ah, Mr Lester,” VP Green bellows, grinning widely. “Glad to see you’ve survived the long break!”

Dan turns his head, watching VP Green stride from the door towards the front of the classroom, over towards a wooden desk in the corner, beside which stands a tall young man in a red and black checkered shirt.

The young man grins back, placing the papers back down upon his desk as he shakes the outstretched hand extended towards him by the Vice Principal.

“Hah, I thought about running off and never returning, but alas-” he places a dramatic hand over his heart, gazing out at the uninterested teenagers before him. “Their thirst for knowledge is a siren call.”

VP Green laughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder.

Dan just blinks in astonishment at the display. This man surely cannot be the famed ‘Mr Lester’ that was described to him a few minutes ago.

For a start, the guy looks to be about Dan’s age. Perhaps a little older, as it’s difficult to tell with young men in their twenties, but definitely not by much. Also, he’s… attractive.

Never once in all of Dan’s years of education has he ever felt anything more than a mild appreciation for his teachers or professors. Most of the time, he actually loathes them.

To find one of the various downtrodden, weary, moody people Dan has had teaching him over the years attractive is something so alien to him that he can barely begin to comprehend it.

But here is Mr Lester, looking like a damn snack in his short sleeved plaid, his thick-rimmed, scene-y glasses, and his actual goddamn skinny jeans. Dan has no idea how to respond.

“Who’s the lanky nonce gawping at Mr Lester, sir?” A boy at the back of the class shouts, hauling Dan out of his inappropriate thoughts at once.

Both VP Green and Mr Lester turn to the door, still smiling.

“Ah, yes.” VP Green says, remembering Dan at last. “Everyone, take your seats now, that’s it. I’m going to introduce to you our newest Teaching Assistant, Mister Howell.”

Dan gives the class an awkward wave. “Hi.”

“Good morning, Mister Howell.” The class sings in one, unified, monotone.

It’s unexpected, and Dan stands like a lemon for a moment, dumbed by the strange, cult-like chant.

“Um, g-good morning.”

“Hey, knock it off you lot.” Mr Lester says around a wry smile. “He knows this isn’t Primary School. No more teasing the new TA on his first day, alright?”

The class chuckles, and Phil grins at them all, shaking his head in mock-disapproval. His tongue peeks through the thin gap between his two rows of teeth as he smiles; Dan instantly melts at the sight of this.

“Right, well I’ll be leaving you in Mr Lester’s capable hands,” VP Green says to Dan, clapping him once on the shoulder. He glances at Mr Lester apologetically. “Sorry, but I must run - first day back and everything. A thousand things to do. Are you alright to introduce yourselves?”

“No problem,” Mr Lester says brightly. He places his hand on Dan’s upper back. “I’ll take care of him.”

VP Green nods, smiling at them both before walking to the door. He waves to the class, none of whom seem to notice, and then disappears into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Dan swallows, realising that now he is truly on his own. Well, apart from Mr Lester, that is.

Gathering himself, Dan turns to shake Mr Lester’s hand. He has warm, large hands, which are surprisingly soft to the touch. He draws his own hand away quickly, cheeks warming as he realises what a weirdo he’s being for even noticing something like that.

“Hey,” Mr Lester says, quieter now, so the kids won’t hear. “I’m Phil. Welcome to the Algerian War.”

“Cool, I’m Dan- wait, what?”

Phil just grins enigmatically, then spins on his heel to face the front of the class.

“Right gang! We’ve got an hour.” Phil says, clapping his hands together. “You know the drill, get the tables out of the way, c’mon.”

“Um…” Dan stutters. “Sorry, what is happening right now?”

Phil laughs at Dan’s bewildered expression as the students hop animatedly out of their seats. Scraping sounds fill the air as they push their tables and chairs to the edges of the room, leaving a huge space in the centre.

“You’ll see,” Phil says, whispering it into Dan’s ear.

Not realising Phil had gotten that close, Dan shudders, somewhat embarrassingly. He can smell the toothpaste Phil must have brushed his teeth with this morning on his breath.

Oblivious to Dan’s reaction - thank God - Phil turns his attention back to the class. “Okay, yeah, but let’s use the tables to make two sets of barricades- yep one on either side of the room. That’s it, Jonah! Yeah, stack ‘em up Katie! Why not?“

“I’m not sure they covered this in training…” Dan says as Phil walks boldly into the space created in the centre, surveying the work of the students.

“Looks good guys!” Phil says, ignoring Dan entirely now. “Let’s get these barricades up quickly. Do you hear the people sing…?”

The students groan at the sound of Phil’s off-key singing, and Dan barks a laugh, unable to believe that Mr Lester, supposed genius history teacher, just launched into the chorus of a Les Misérables song in the middle of class.

Phil turns to face him then, grinning happily. “Get involved, Mr Howell!” He urges, walking over to grab Dan by the arm. “Are you my TA or not?”

“Well, yeah but… what do you want me to do?”

“Are you deaf? We’re making our barricades!”

So, not knowing how else to proceed, Dan obediently begins helping a nearby bunch of thirteen to fourteen year olds stack the tables and chairs until they have made a pretty impressive (and moderately safe) barricade.

“Okay!” Phil cries in a surprisingly loud, deep voice. “Right, if you’re born in the months of July to December, get on the right side of the room. If you’re born from January to June, left side.”

Dan stays on the left as instructed, listening in wonder to whatever this peculiar, charismatic man is about to say.

“So, the Algerian war.” Phil says, hands on his hips. “Who knows what it was about?”

A hush falls over the classroom. Dan has to admit, even he has no clue on this one.

“Who knows when it was?” Phil asks.

Again, he is met with silence.

“Where it was fought?”

Phil waits, sweeping his laser-blue eyes over the blank faces. He lands on Dan, smirking. “Mr Howell? Any ideas on this one?”

Absurdly, Dan blushes, feeling as though he’s just been singled out by one of his own teachers. He reminds himself that this is merely a replica of a traumatic time, and that he is actually in charge here, with Phil. He and Phil are - supposedly - on the same team.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t know the answer.

For some reason though, he decides to give it a shot. “Uh, Algeria?”

The class titters, and Phil smiles. “Good work, Mr Howell. Gold star.”

Just before Phil turns away, Dan swears he sees him wink.

“See?” Phil asks the others. “Not all my questions are designed to trick you.”

Over the next few minutes, Phil uses a variety of bizarre techniques to supply the class with the answers to the questions he just posed - including a game of charades, a session of mime, an actual interpretive dance, and signing.

He is theatrical in his movements, and seems to be well aware that the class is laughing at him as he clumsily acts out the French revolution of May 1968, using every mildly offensive French stereotype in the book in order to do it.

He laughs along with the rest of them, apparently more than happy to be the butt of their teenage jokes as long as the answer comes out eventually. Dan watches his unusual technique in amazement, finding that even he is learning, without really meaning to, as well as laughing along, enjoying himself with the others.

Eventually, Phil moves to the front of the class, standing on his desk. He throws his arms wide, letting the groans and ‘sir, what’re you doin’ mate’ comments bounce off his chest.

“Right!” Phil announces. “The year is 1954! It is time for the war to commence!”

Dan raises an eyebrow, smirking at the display.

“Those of you on the left are the Algerian natives fighting for independence from the French colony!” Phil declares, gesturing at Dan and his troop of thirteen year olds. He catches Dan’s eye, smiling mischievously. “And those of you on the right are the French military, determined to stop this uprising before it becomes outright anarchy!”

“Wait,” Dan says, “we’re not actually gonna-”

“Trois, deux, un… fight!” Phil cries, jumping down from his desk as an unholy roar erupts throughout the class.

To Dan’s utter horror, the students run at each other from opposing sides, their fingers becoming guns, their rulers and pencils transforming into knives and swords.

Phil sidles over to him, nudging him in the side. “Why are you waiting on the sidelines, Dan? You’re letting the Algerians down!”

Dan cannot speak. He watches as the students wrestle each other to the ground, fake-throttling one another, pretending to stab and wound and maim.

Every single one of them is immersed in the imaginary bloodshed, their school-kid personalities gone for the time being. For now, Dan realises, each of these children is a soldier in the Algerian war.

“This is amazing.” Dan can’t help saying.

He shakes his head, marvelling as he watches a ‘French militant’ straddle a wounded ‘Algerian’, pinning her to the floor. She struggles against her oppressor’s grip in vain.

“How dare you steal our land and our produce!” The ‘Algerian’ girl cries bitterly. “The Islamic people of Algeria were peaceful until you came and colonised us you fucking French frogs!”

“Silence, citizen!” The ‘French militant’ snarls. “We dragged your sorry excuse for a country out of the depths of poverty! What use will this insubordination bring you? Do you know how many would die to be French?”

The ‘Algerian’ girl spits at him. “Good for them! Because I’d rather die than become French!”

“Then die you shall!”

He mimes stabbing the ‘Algerian’ girl through the heart. She chokes, then falls silent, her head lolling to the side. Dan wants to give the two of them a round of applause.

“They get really into it.” Phil muses happily, still beside Dan. “History is so much more exciting when you can really put yourself in the shoes of the people involved. That’s what I find, anyway.”

Dan turns to Phil, feeling pretty dazed by him at this point. The azure blue of his eyes locks onto Dan’s, drowning him in skies and oceans and bubblegum ice cream.

“You’re not like any teacher I’ve ever met.” Dan says quietly, a little dizzy still.

The shrieks and clatters of the warring teenagers still echoes around the room, creating a strange, lively atmosphere.

“In a good way?”

Dan considers this. If he’d had a history teacher as cool and exciting as Phil when he was in school, he almost definitely would have learned substantially more than he did. Either that, or he’d know a lot less, because there’s an equally good chance he’d spend every history lesson staring at, and fantasising about, his hot teacher.

“Definitely a good way.” Dan answers,

Phil smirks, and Dan almost collapses at the sight of it. “That’s good.”

“Why is that good?”

Phil chuckles lowly. He takes a step closer to Dan, making his lungs seize up.

“Think I might get jealous if you had a different favourite teacher to work with.”

Dan swallows, trying very, very hard to see this obvious flirtation as something entirely platonic.

“Well… it’s only my first lesson on my first day.” Dan says, sounding bolder than he feels. “I’ve got classes with plenty of other teachers yet.”

Phil nods, running his gaze quickly up and down Dan’s body. “I see, so you’re not picking favourites just yet?”

Dan grins at him. “Not yet.”

“Hm,” Phil nods, turning away with a smirk. All of a sudden, the bell rings. “Alright everyone, cease fire! Time to head to your next classes. Let’s get these tables back in order before we leave, shall we?”

“Wait!” A long, dark haired girl interrupts, indignant. “Sir, who won the war? Don’t leave us hanging!”

“Ah,” Phil grins. “An excellent question, the answer to which…” He pauses dramatically. “I will be saving for next class!”

There’s an enormous, collective groan. Dan marvels at it, wondering if he’s ever groaned in frustration at a class being cut short before.

The students chatter animatedly as they restore order to the classroom, and Dan helps them get everything back into place. At last, they’re all filing out of the door towards their next lessons, and Dan breathes a sigh of exhaustion.

He turns to Phil, feeling a little nervous at the prospect of being alone with him.

“Okay, well it was good to meet you.” Dan says, suddenly a polite, nervous wreck.

Phil laughs at him, but walks over and smiles, reaching out his hand. “You too, Dan.” They shake hands, but this time Dan doesn’t let go quite as fast. “Thank you for putting up with all the madness. You actually coped pretty well! I’m impressed. Most TA’s take a while to warm up to my… methods.”

“I’m not most TA’s.” Dan says, meaning it as a joke.

Phil regards him with a tilted head, still smiling. “No, I get the sense you’re not.”

Dan coughs, reddening. “Well, I should get to my next class.”

“See you in 1962?”

“Hah,” Dan responds, “yeah.”

He turns to leave, desperately floundering for some sort of witty, charming and flirtatious remark to leave Phil with.

“Oh, Dan?” Phil asks, and Dan whirls to face him, a little too eagerly perhaps.

“Yep?”

“Keep me updated on your list of favourite teachers, yeah?”

Dan smiles, nodding. “Afraid you’ve got some competition in this school?”

“Mrs Laughton might be sixty-three and have a permanent scowl tattooed onto her face, but she’s got a certain… je ne sais quoi.” Phil says, leaning back onto his desk. He gives Dan a wink. “She could steal your top spot.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Dan tells him honestly. Phil smiles broadly, a glimmer of something caught in the crystal blue of his eye.

Then, because he’s embarrassed, Dan ducks out of the room.

Needless to say, every single one of his other classes that day seems spectacularly dull. He finds himself thinking about Phil throughout most of them anyway, barely able to focus on what the teachers are saying.

The bell rings for lunch, at last, and Dan breathes a sigh of relief, heading down to the staffroom. He’s boiling the kettle for a much needed cup of coffee when he feels a presence beside him. Startled, he looks up, straight into the blue eyes of Phil Lester.

“So?” Phil asks, smiling cheekily. “Any new contenders for Dan’s favourite teacher?”

Dan smiles, feeling his cheeks glow with warmth. He shrugs, attempting to be enigmatic as he pours the boiling water into his mug.

“Maybe.”

“Ooh, mysterious.” Phil says, catching on. “Keep me guessing. I like it.”

Dan coughs, his blush deepening. “It takes a lot to impress me, I’ll have you know.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Phil says, watching Dan pour the milk into his mug. “Maybe I’ll have to introduce a new topic next week. Something more stimulating than the Algerian war.”

Dan raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Just for me?”

“I think you underestimate my commitment to being top of your favourite teacher list.”

“So what topic could you introduce to peak my interest?” Dan asks, smirking.

Without a word, Phil plucks the coffee mug from Dan’s hand and takes a sip, never breaking eye contact. “Well, around the time of the Algerian war, France was going through a kind of …decadent phase, liberally speaking.”

“Decadent?” Dan echoes, preoccupied with watching how Phil’s lips curl around the rim of the mug.

“The lefties were chagrinned about all the censorship laws and the capitalist infrastructure of the Fifth Republic, so they acted out.” Phil explains, handing Dan his coffee back. “They made saucy films, wrote erotic novels, cavorted with each other as much as possible.”

“I’m not sure that’s classroom appropriate, Phil.” Dan laughs, feeling the butterflies begin to burst from their chrysalis’ in his belly.

“Yeah, you’re prob’ly right.” Phil agrees, eyes dragging over Dan’s body again.

Dan blushes, sipping his coffee and nodding. Phil stands up straight, as if he’s about to leave. Just before he does, he leans in close to Dan, their faces dangerously close.

“Maybe we should save that lesson for after class.”

Before Dan can respond, Phil has drifted away, already immersed in conversation with Mrs Laughton, a geography teacher.

For fuck’s sake, Dan thinks, trying to will his brain to calm down after that unexpected comment, he absolutely cannot let himself get involved with a teacher.

No matter how intimidatingly hot and amazing he is.

Dan watches Phil talk animatedly at the sour-faced Mrs Laughton, and realises belatedly that he’s actually biting his lip. Fuck. This is going to be one frustrating year.

(Part Two!)

#anon #ellen answers #prompts #teacher au #phan au #phanfic #hope u like it!#i would potentially expand this it was super cool and fun #also im doing may 68 in france and the algerian war in my film class lmaooo #who says fanfiction can't be informative as well as fun??#this was technically revision for me right??

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Anaticula Pt 65

Over the table at the Manor your eyes settled on a Mandrake Charity Burbage in your path to the door, a subtle reach from you claimed Lucius’ wand he noticed you slid from his walking stick sheath into his jacket pocket that you replaced with a spare wand you shaped the silver handle to a snake’s head in the end of his walking stick. Turning away after stealing the brief shielding hug in his peck on your cheek and muttered thanks you returned to the exit once Narcissa had claimed her own hug as well and sent Draco with you and Barty.

At your side he remained fixed and guided you back to your home, once inside though you caught the wide eyed stare of the Grangers with enchanted bags on their shoulders who calmed in your greeting grin. “Finally get it all squirreled away?”

Mr Granger nodded answering, “Thanks again, for putting us up.”

Moving closer you replied, “No thanks necessary, you’re family. There is a Granger on the family tree you know. So we’re counting it.”

Making them chuckle and head for their usual rooms while Hermione asked you, “Sore today?”

You shook your head, “Just hungry, as usual.” With your spreading smirk you offered her a copy of your latest sketch of the blonde you called from your room upstairs, who was staring at her adoringly from afar making a grin split onto her face, “Thought you might need a pick me up.”

With a hint of tears in her glance up at you she replied, “Thank you. How was it?”

“Tons of planning. Lot’s to adjust to. But nothing too soon, so enjoy your summer. Fred and George are handling Luna’s move tomorrow.”

Draco, “Oh, Astoria wrote, her parents are on board for a beach vacation.”

“Lovely.”

Barty grinned saying, “Regulus and I can handle that one tomorrow.” Smirking at Barty, “If Astoria chooses to live here until school starts what ever will you manage to converse about?” Draco’s face twisted into a blushing grin making him turn away stirring a chuckle from you three.

You barely had time to turn when Molly came out of the kitchen, “Ahh! Off your feet!” With a grin you joined her to the dining room where she settled you down and offered you the lunch she had prepared with Hermione and Barty gladly joining you.

Newt of course dropped by for the weekly visit alongside the doctor, who examined you in your room for privacy and gave you a beaming smile giving you the all clear that you were doing well.

Severus however returned with an interesting set of news driving you to groan and cover your face for a moment, “Okay…” cross legged in the library you sat in the window seat and smoothed your fingers across your lips for a moment trying to think, “How, to fix this…ah.” With a wave of your hand you summoned from across the floor in the corner of Dumbledore’s school office under a cabinet the fake Elder Wand from his ghoul double to float in front of you.

“K,”

“Yes Mistress,” he said popping up at your side with a grin.

“Could you fetch me the Ollivander brothers please?” Drawing your own wand you smoothed it along the wand muttering, “I need a convincing fake.” In Draconic you laced the wand with an aura of raw power and he smirked popping away.

Snape, “Fake?” Sitting down across from you he eyed the wand with narrowing eyes, “You mean to give it to Riddle? How do you know he will take it?”

“Because, who would turn down Dumbledore’s wand to start a new wave to a war?”

At once the brothers appeared and in looking you over both drew in an excited breath at your expecting status then shifted their gaze to the wand in front of you furrowing their brows, to them you said, “It’s a fake, though, I need your help to make it convincing.”

They came in closer inspecting the wand then looked to you, the elder said, “You have laced an aura into it?”

You nodded, “Will it be noticeable?”

The other shook his head, “Not after we fill the core.”

The elder again spoke, “Just leave this to us, we know this core better than any, and know just how to duplicate it closely enough to be convincing now that you’ve laced it.”

“Shouldn’t take long, we shall head to our shop and alert you when we have completed it.”

“Congratulations, on your child.”

With a grin you answered, “Thank you. I know this is troubling-,”

They shook their heads and said together, “No trouble at all.”

The elder stated, “Not if this sates any troubles You-Know-Who’s quest for the Elder Wand long enough for him to be muzzled.”

Through your door they traveled to their hidden shop inside yours and got to work and you turned to look at Snape answering his unspoken sentence, “The Elder Wand is supposed to be an unbeatable wand, the wielder is supposed to be untouchable in matters of power, though hundreds have killed in hopes of taking it for themselves.”

Snape nodded, “Ah, no wonder he would search for it himself then.”

“And I know just who he’ll go to ask about it.”

It didn’t take long at all, as by dinner the masterful Wizards had completed the task and handed over the wand, that you and Dumbledore in his invitation along with Minerva to dinner could feel having wielded the true thing. With a knowing nod Dumbledore accepted the fake he went to entomb with his fake body when the meal was through while you went outside to the gardens. There between Opal and Norberta, Tulip sat raised up sniffing the air smelling hints of the incoming rain, a grin eased onto her face as she lowered to greet you.

“Hello beautiful,” you hissed out in Parseltongue in her move to nuzzle your belly as you stroked her snout, “Enjoying the gardens today?”

With a nod she said, “Rain is coming. Good and moist for your eggs to be laid in.”

A distant doorbell turned the head of those inside the sitting room while you continued chatting with the three enjoying the last bits of sun before the storms coming. Though gasps from the doorway to the gardens turned your head to see the Pears standing in a large group that hurried over to come greet you while the younger of the group all inspected Tulip and the dragon pair while you were pulled into a series of hugs. Hands fell to your belly and right into the house you were led as Vivienne took charge of your care unloading a vast supply of all they had stockpiled.

Fluffing the pillows and blankets around you Ollivier asked, “And where is this fiancé of yours? Why isn’t he here tending to you?”

“Things are different here, there are people hunting us. He keeps them at bay.” Parting his lips and making Vivienne turn to look at you with fear in her eyes, “The man who killed Suzsienne and my Mum is loose, that’s why I can’t publicize this yet, to keep her safe. Won’t be long now.”

Vivienne drew closer, “She?”

Her hopeful tone answered with your reply, “She.”

Eric, “Any idea for names yet?”

“Emmeline Ophelia Rose Tennant-Black.”

Grins spread on their faces and Ollivier stated, “What a beautiful name, my grandmother was named Emmeline.”

Eric, “Why Ophelia?”

“It’s the name of a moon. Family tradition, names after stars or planets.”

Vivienne, “No doubt David had some input on the name?”

With a grin you answered, “He chose Rose, used to love Mum’s middle name.” Parting her lips, “He is excited, we all are. It just came out of nowhere and we have to adjust so much.” Looking her over you asked, “How is France? Are there a lot of attacks?”

Shaking her head she said, “If there are it isn’t noticeable to us.”

“Well if you ever would like your island hidden let me know.” A curious glint flashed in her eyes, “We have ways.”

By morning you had settled the family into their rooms after a hearty dinner and woken early to join Harry for a trip to Privet Drive. Weeks prior they had been alerted it was time to move into hiding and had packed but the sight of you in your waddling state had you shaking your head and saying, “It’s a long story.” Instantly your hand was cradled with an open mouthed stare from Petunia in a brushing of your hair from your face and you let out a weak chuckle in her eyeing your ring. “That, is an even longer story. For the short version I needed to be engaged and pregnant,” you whispered as Harry went to help Vernon gather the bags and boxes.

“I don’t understand, why would you need to be pregnant, engaged I get, but-,”

Her soft inquiry shifted with you out of Harry’s earshot to the back doors still open on the warm day, and you whispered back, “There’s a guy with certain intentions,” she nodded. “So my best friend is now my fiancé and the child from a fling of his is nearly born so, there is a baby, but I just need to play the part.”

“What of the mother?” After a pause she asked, “She doesn’t want it?”

You shook your head, “It won’t be long, and then I can bring her over when we get you settled again if you like?”

Eagerly she nodded and then joined the others in rounding up their things to join you through the enchanted doorway into their chosen hut. The common seeming house made then turn in a curious circle to inspect it until you waved a hand opening the blinds parting their lips at the ocean view luring them through the house and into their private garden with a clear shot to the beach. Paid time off was settled for Vernon and an extension on Dudley’s acceptance was granted to aid in their hiding for as long as they would need. A hug later and you had to head through your doorway again with your eyes closing for a moment at the sway inducing joint scuffle inside you from the eager cubs anxious to be born.

It would be a matter of days now and off to your shop you went for a final check on inventory, where through the crowds a momentary hold of the railing at your side brought the hatted Rita Skeeter through the crowds for a closer look. In and out again just as fast the only trace of your knowledge of her presence was after she had left from Angelina and Katie mentioning it on your joint lunch break. Rolling your eyes you made your way home wondering just what she was up to and were off to find something to eat. Wincing at another painful joint kick you wrote to Newt asking if the surgery could be soon as you could barely sleep as it was without their nearing the point where they would claw their way out without a pouch to escape through.

Exhaling lowly your head lowered to your crossed arms as another vision flashed in your mind. Riddle was leaving tonight, off to see Grindlewald. Inhaling sharply your eyes glowed and into the sealed cell a glowing mist double of yourself appeared in front of the wide eyed Wizard you normally came to see in person. “Gellert, Tom Riddle Jr is coming to speak with you tonight.”

“Ah, I wondered when he would come. Does he mean to kill me then?”

“No, he is looking for something.” Grindelwald nodded, “Something you will tell him was buried with Dumbledore.”

His eyes narrowed, “Dumbledore is not dead. I would feel it.” After a moments pause he asked, “And just who does he believe killed him?”

“Severus Snape, in the trap I laid.”

“Ah, this Snape is an ally of yours then.”

“He grew up with my Mother and Aunt.”

With a nod he asked, “What he is searching for is buried with Dumbledore, he wouldn’t happen to be searching for the Elder Wand, would he? Because Dumbledore will never be foolish enough to bury it.”

A smirk from you was his answer and he bowed his head, “I shall anxiously await our next meeting my Queen.” In a blink the mist was gone and to himself he chuckled imagining how foolish this Riddle could truly be.

As usual Neville’s birthday celebration was shared with Harry, who both had been dropped off of the Ministry Trace of his magic at his coming of age. This year it was held at the Hollow, a choice to keep the party out of the crowded halls of your home freeing the boys to some privacy. Though the celebration seemed to be interrupted in your stolen nap by Rufus Scrimgeour, a chance drop by silenced the music playing and the joyful laughter and stories for the reading of a will, Dumbledore’s will.

A glance around after the passing of the Deluminator, Tales of the Beetle Bard and a Golden Snitch had him asking, “I was hoping to catch Miss Black for a moment.”

Harry, “She’s down for a nap.”

Rufus nodded, “Ah yes, tiring business pregnancy.”

Hermione’s brow inched up, “How did you know about that?”

Rufus pulled a magazine folded in half from his jacket pocket, “It is all over the press.” Open mouthed Hermione read the four page tale on your pregnancy with a stolen picture to confirm. “I had hoped to see if it was true myself, and try to convince her to see reason.”

Ron’s brows furrowed looking at Rufus making him flinch, “Reason? She’s the only one bringing reason about! You lot blindly chasing after ghosts and blaming all this to hide the truth!”

Rufus, “And what truth might that be?”

Harry, “That you’re afraid, and have no clue what you’re against. You’re afraid she might be right, that she’s not another Black Plague you can claim as evil.”

Hermione, “You’re a fool to think you can use her. Just like Fudge.”

In that his brows clenched and he promptly rose stating, “We are not weak, and no one is hiding! There are no puppets here!”

Ron smirked at him, “Sure about that Mate? Keep your eyes open. Strings are hard to catch till you end up tangled.” Rufus’ eyes narrowed for a moment then he turned on his heel and stormed out of the house.

…

Two ticks past midnight a mint green mist filled the rooms of the Pears keeping them asleep and deaf to the house around them as Molly leapt up to join Barty in readying his baby mamma into the guest room chosen for the birthing. Wincing yourself you were laid flat while in your own chosen guest room on the protective sheets you laid back with Regulus and your father holding your hands and smoothing their hands over your exposed belly.

Newt right on time with the Doctor readied the instruments as Hermione, the twins, Draco and Neville found you and readied to help however possible. Remus was last to arrive and sealed the door behind himself making his way to sit by your head as Narcissa and Snape kept watch on the Pear rooms keeping the mist flowing under their doors.

Exhaling slowly you felt Newt’s hand settle on your belly in smoothing a cream across it settling the shifting, “This will help us cut cleanly and numb you.” His eyes met yours in your peek out then you closed them shut again at the doctor nearing you.

Scalpel raised she said, “Cutting in, three, two, big pressure, one,” clutching the hands you were holding tighter the teens around you reacted to the first flash of blood and then the goo coated furry cubs being levitated from your womb one at a time into Newt’s waiting basket. Softly he counted growing more elated the more that came out until the final orange sized cub was out and the cuts were sealed again afterwards. A few wipes of a damp cloth and your eyes opened to receive the first of the healing potions that shrunk your belly back to its natural toned size with only a tiny scar to remind you of the experience.

Sitting up between Regulus and Sirius you grinned watching as each of the cubs were being weighed and measured by Newt before the adult Boa Red Panda who you had carried them for licked them clean and settled them between your outstretched legs. Tentatively they approached you and in recognizing your heart beat and voice were soon crawling all around you stroking their bodies against you in return for your pets and Newt finally let out a chuckle saying, “Fifteen.” Tears welled in his eyes and he neared you stealing a tight hug, “Fourteen girls.” Shaking his head he added, “We can never thank you enough for this.”

“Thank you. Now I think they might have to head home,” you said at their rush for their father’s pouch to be fed making him nod, “Time for round two,”

Your father chuckled as the doctor left with the father and his cubs leaving Newt to remain and greet your daughter, into the open room you were welcomed and grinned in approaching Barty’s side. The mother already being given the potions you had been given restoring her to her former strength and figure. Without a second glance at the baby she was led by K, with memory altered to match her husband’s to blot out the pregnancy, back to her safe home while Barty beamed nearing you saying, “Our baby girl.” A proud kiss was stolen from you that you giggled through before he hummed, “I do hope you took a picture of her siblings?”

Fred and George grinned, “Several.” Widening his grin in his gently easing the bundled girl into your arms.

Molly after a few clearing swishes of her wand turned saying, “Come now, off to bed so we can wake the others.” You nodded and smiled down at little Em in your move to your bed down the hall, to which you giggled in your father’s changing your sweats to your flannels saying, “Have to make it convincing.”

Barty beside you helped you up and settled into the bed nestling the covers up around you while the teens all leaned in taking turns saying, “Hello Em.”

Double checking everything Molly nodded and Regulus whistled down the hall turning the heads of the pair who nodded and set off a rescinding spell to withdraw the mist that would wake those affected by it all at once then they hurried to choose their doors to begin the ‘waking knocks’ for the news.

One by one the woken Pear family poured in and took turns admiring the infant girl with brown hair and bright green eyes cooing up at each of them. The stagnant hair only remaining so for a few moments until Ollivier shifted his hair to purple and hers rippled after widening his grin, a trick each of his siblings and sons copied.

Tearfully in their frenzy to ready a breakfast to you your father wrote her name in the family ledger and took your side to claim a bout of snuggling and peppered kisses over her for as long as he could until you tried for your first feeding. A pleasant side effect of your pregnancy, you were able to nurse her, a note that Newt was certain to make mention of in his own bout of holding her before he had to return home again and pass on the wonderful news. Assuring you all your contribution would not be shared until Riddle was dead and all this was over with.

Notes were sent out for Riddle to know and the few others who had not been there to witness it. It wouldn’t be fully publicized to keep her safe from harm and alongside the Pears the Delacour family came knocking next to join in on the full day of prep before the wedding the final night. So grateful to have your old body back you looked to your closet eyeing the black petal coated strapless gown Fleur had picked for you. With the skirt embroidered in white peacocks matching Hermione and Gabrielle’s dress marking you both as her Bridal Party as Bill chose the reluctantly returned Charlie, Fred and George in their matching shirts and vests tucked into their dark slacks.

Between stolen glances your way the twins filled Charlie in to what he was missing, just to keep him from spoiling the wedding instantly bringing him to your side. “May I see her?”

“Depends, are you checking for wings or a tail?” Making him smirk in your gently easing the blanket back from around Em’s scrunched up chin in her rocking bassinette sleeping soundly while the final decorations were going up.

“She is beautiful. I am happy for you.” Moving closer in your standing up he lowly whispered, “For what I said, I was wrong, in what I believed and in saying it. You did not deserve that. I am so sorry I could not be the man you deserved. Or the one to protect you from this.”

You shook your head, “Who can tell? Who matters, who stays,” in your eyes scanning over him you said, “I hope you find it one day, the future waiting for you. I bet it’s marvelous.” Making him chuckle then turn at Bill’s call, “See you at the aisle.”

“See you then.” He replied in a turn bringing the twins up to your sides as Barty carefully approached the bassinette to lead it over to the living room where your father would watch her until the service began.

Fred and George stated, “Why that was downright civil.”

Giggling to yourself you said, “Yes it was.” Shifting your gaze between them you asked, “You told him so he wouldn’t spoil things?”

Fred, “Had to.”

You nodded, “Yes, seems he might be needing some more time to let go.”

George, “But he will.” Easing his arm behind your back before they both said, “Time to sneak some snacks.” Making you giggle again in a turn to head for the kitchens you were promptly shooed out of again by Molly and the other cooks in the families present.

At Fleur’s side after rehearsing her vows in English once again you joined her up the aisle and down again behind her to the reception. A full table of those from the Triwizard Tournament was filled and gossiped when you and Fleur joined them, reminiscing about the year you had spent battling together up until now. While Charlie kept watch from afar on Barty with Em and Sebastian across from you staring with his arm around his own expecting Wife beside Viktor trying to chat with Hermione and dig to see if she was planning her life after graduation already you tried to just focus on the now.

A flash of silver in your eyes however made you stand and exit the tent bringing all the alerted aurors with you. Wands were drawn and in a sudden light emitting from you a large bubble filled with streams of lightning erupted to the stone walls around their vast plot of land matching those around the muggle houses in the town down the road. Cries of pain erupted from the plumes of smoke casting spells down onto what they saw as an unsuspecting town rebounding their spells. Heavily they fell to be bound and zapped off to the Ministry with full notation of all curses cast on the town until the attack ended and the lights faded in the lowering of your spark coated hands to your sides.

With still glowing eyes you stood hearing echoes of your father’s voice as flashes of images of countless more attacks were being cast on Muggles in countless countries. A tearful blink later and your eyes dimmed to normal, “Pumpkin?” His hands were still clasping your cheeks, “What did you see?”

“They’re coming. The three, they can feel Riddle’s fall.”

Moving closer Fleur asked, “Jaqi?”

With a grin you said, “Just more idiots attacking Muggles.” Nodding in return she claimed Bill’s hand and led him back to the dance floor guiding others to start dancing again. Softly in meeting your father’s eyes as Regulus and Remus approached you said, “We have to start making copies.”

Regulus, “Of what?”

“Everything. Trees, Mountains, every country and city.”

Remus’ heart sank to his stomach and he said, “That sounds like, we’re going to have to replace them all.”

Sirius, “They’re going to burn the world?”

“To cinders. If they can’t have it all,”

The three mumbled, “No one can…”

Regulus wet his lips and said, “We’ll divide the continents, start collecting. I’ll be needing Neville though, it’ll be brutal and take time.”

With a shake of your head in the release of your cheeks you said, “maybe not.” Turning around to head inside with a grin to Barty, who was trotting over with Em on his chest asleep. Severus and Minerva had joined you in your peering over your Draconic book you set open on the guest bed for some privacy, the pages flipped until they stopped on a spell, “This one, saves samples, seedlings and sprouts of all flora. Animals have been rounded up, though we’ll have to go in larger scale. As for the copies,”

You looked up to Remus who said, “Earth memories. Saves copies of whole countries. Just have to set them off and save them to rebuild later.”

Sirius, “Why haven’t we done this?”

Minerva, “It is risky, to cast the spell one must hold it until their region is copied, it would give away the location of the castor.”

“Not if we use ricocheting pots.”

Regulus, “What now?”

The Barty chuckled saying, “Brilliant, they divert attentions away from the castor for a period of time casting off similar appearing spells to draw attention.”

Minerva, “It cannot be that simple.”

Sirius, “Far from it, the pots take a second castor. We work in teams, cross off the continents one by one.”

You nodded, “I’ll talk to Newt about more hidden habitats. We might have to move the Black family houses to new islands.”

Remus, “They might have to be Draconic made and enchanted islands to keep the Ministry from finding them.”

A section of ocean was marked off and by weeks end down in the Pacific Ocean by Antarctica an Africa sized continent was raised and hidden in a ring of volcanoes to keep Muggles away and helping to block off their chances to fly overhead. Though in your tiring job of delegating the Order members to copying the cities of the world and gathering all of the flora it became clear the world was buzzing on a new matter all together. Rita again had been busy, and when you refused to talk about your child just yet she moved onto bigger fish.

Still wondering what the good was of the story of Three Brothers in the book Hermione was left she has asked Mr Lovegood about at the wedding reception she knocked on your door while Harry and Ron were delving more into Rita’s book trying to learn more about Dumbledore’s life.

Hermione, “Jaqi, Dumbledore left me this book, and it has this symbol inside. The same one on your ring.”

With a sigh you mumbled, “Dumbledore.” Her eyes looked you over and you came in at your offer so you could pick out your clothes and change for the day at your shop at Barty’s insistence after you had Em the full day before. In your closet she sat as you pulled out your clothes, “The Peverell brothers, my ancestors aimed for greatness. The cloak for safety, the stone for lost love, and the wand for great power. To make it plain Dumbledore is hinting that he has spent his life in search of the three Deathly Hallows and that is what Riddle is doing now, but only for one of them,” parting her lips, “Now, the stone and cloak are useless to him, what he wants is the wand, but that is hidden and I replaced it with a duplicate he now has.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, “Then why the Snitch and Deluminator?”

With a shrug you replied, “Snitch is odd to me, the other, they have been known to be used to aid in apparating. A Wizard was lost at sea once and couldn’t get home and heard his daughter speaking through it, sort of made a, doorway of sorts to aid in long distance apparating. Got him home.”

Hermione, “Why is he still plotting?”

“Old habits. Try not to worry about it. For now, I’ve got to go have my reputation bolstered.” Making her head tilt slightly in a curious smirk, “You don’t want to know.”

“Give me your hand.” You stated popping up in Rufus’ office making him turn around to find you with a ghoul.

“Excuse me?”

A flash of yellow from your raised wand blocked his magic and you neared him creating a double before zapping away off to the middle of one of your islands making him turn around open mouthed seeing, in the distance faces of those he imagined dead. “You’re welcome. I’ve made a copy of your home, your wife is inside.” Turning again you pointed at a hut with his dog popping up in the window of it saying, “That one’s yours.” With a pat on his back you were gone and he hurried over feeling your magic block gone to go inspect the hut, which inside was his home shrunken to fit it. And just like you said his wife was inside, not having noticed a thing lost to her book until he brought her outside. It wasn’t until breakfast when you sent over a copy of the Prophet with a full page on his being captured and tortured to death proving just whose side you were on.

Pius Thicknesse under the Imperius Curse next was chosen for the next Minister of Magic. The residences affiliated with the Order of the Phoenix are attacked by Death Eaters and Dedalus Diggle's home double is burned down.

One by one your doubles came in handy as well as the evacuations while attacks grew and grew. Lost to their own curiosities however Harry, Ron and Hermione made their first trip to Godric’s Hollow.

A mournful stop to the graveyard across from your former homes however had them in tears seeing your headstone shared with your mother’s beside Harry’s parents. A stop to see Bathilda Bagshot, who turned out to be Nagini in disguise, to talk about Dumbledore ended with their zapping off to Tottenham road.

Stopping in to a muggle diner for a bite to eat ended poorly with Antonin Dolohov and Thorfinn Rowle going after them and being taken out by the trio in their path back off through the city.

Zigzagging from place to place avoiding Body Snatchers they zapped off to the middle of a forest where Hermione hastily raised barriers making certain that they were not followed. Suddenly in their group Dobby popped up, “Dobby was asked,” ignoring their flinches he continued speaking, “By Master Draco to ensure that Mr Harry Potter knows that it is his night to watch baby Em.”

Looking at the House Elf Harry let out a weak chuckle saying, “Thanks Dobby, almost forgot.”

Dobby looked them over then the forest around them, “Is Mr Harry Potter lost?”

Harry’s head tilted a moment, “You could say that.”

Dobby nodded, “Dobby could assist your return home if you wish.”

Hermione replied, “Thank you Dobby, that would be lovely.”

Ron, “Ya, been chased by Death Eaters all morning.”

Dobby raised his hands and they took them and he zapped them home again, “It is no wonder then that Miss Jaqi has been pacing again.”

Pacing however was the least of your worries, in the return of your figure Bernadette came calling again with another offer of a role. This one the lead in a romance as her younger sister, fully taking up the next three weeks of August in hopes of filming the full thing before you had to head back to Quidditch again.

Troy and Moran had joined the world in celebrating silently in their own respective parties the birth of your child and your return to the team, weekends claimed your practices and again you were devoted to juggling your many jobs while headlines flew.

War, romance, scandals and all around a sense of dread was pooling around the world at what was coming to a head between the Krum brothers, Ginny, Tina Scamander and Percy’s birthdays before the Muggle Born lists started to fill the final pages of the Prophet with Hermione’s name right up at the top for questioning.

Pt 66

#Birth #Fleur and Bill Wedding #Plots #Planning #Kidnapping the Minister #New Minister

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