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#maybe i’ll do one more set from this series and then work on hill house sets
oddishblossom · 1 year
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MIDNIGHT MASS
Riley Flynn & Death
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hoodssery · 8 months
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Recommending Video Essays #1
I am currently sick and dealing with the constant bodily betrayal of having a chronic illness. This means I don't really have much to do (or much I can do comfortably), and am doing what little things I can and distracting myself with games like Battlefield and Arma 3 King of the Hill and video essays playing in the background of 24/7 Operation Locker servers.
Video essays are a pretty popular format for YouTube considering the design of all large scale social media platforms centers around a short attention span, click more things kind of philosophy that seems to be doing very well in the modern digital age. More than that video essays on all kinds of topics seems to be becoming the new form documentary is taking, with a notable amount of video essays even taking up the title of “documentary”.
But, that doesn't really matter because I'm sure you all can agree that what really matters is someone with 12 subscribers and no followers telling you what's good content to shove into your sensory holes that come standard with every human being.
The style and format of certain Youtubers have dramatically shaped not just my content, but the way I consume all media now. That's a pretty big deal because at the end of the day most of these people are schmucks like me who sit in their house, play video games, and say what's right and wrong. Even weirder is that I don't even know these people!
So in honor of these fellow weirdos, and because I don't have anything much better to do, I'm gonna recommend a video essay everyday of me being sick. And who knows, maybe I'll even manage find the little will it takes to do this less frequently after I can move more than 100 feet at a time.
Recommendation: God of War - Almost a Masterpiece by Joseph Anderson (https://youtu.be/pJPOvLvdugw)
POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD FOR BOTH God of War (2018) AND JOSPEH ANDERSON'S VIDEO
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For most of these people I will be recommending you may have already heard of them, or seen videos from them, especially if you're traveling in obscure enough circles to find these posts. Joseph Anderson may or may not be one of these people. I can say from first hand experience that for a long time, I only recognized his profile picture of an illustration of a Dragon from the cover of his book The Wizard and the Dragon. While I can't speak for his talent and merit as an author of fantasy novels, Joseph Anderson is someone whom I greatly respect for their work as a critic of video games. He has had a very consistent voice for gaming since his first his first set of five videos entitled Dark Souls Critique – Part One – Five. Since then Joseph Anderson has consistently gotten better at producing and making these essays, with his best work being multi-hour, in-depth critiques of games ranging from Super Mario Odyssey, to Bloodborne.
However, the one that I find is his best, and the one that I would recommend to people who haven't watched his videos before is God of War – Almost a Masterpiece. This is the video where Joseph Anderson's methodical, long form breakdown of video games shines through the most. Despite covering almost every facet of the game over just about three hours flat, the video remains very focused on his view of the narrative that is set up for later games in this new God of War series. Even when he does stray from the path of the narrative, it's never for nothing and provides a more interesting insight into the gameplay, open world, structure of side quests, and comparisons to the other game's stories and gameplay than I've seen from anyone else covering this game.
Joseph Anderson is a huge inspiration for me. There is very little waste in his videos, and what waste there is always is providing some information, even if it's redundant or excessive. He is someone I honestly cannot recommend enough even if he's never gonna finish that Witcher 3 video.
Other recommendations from his channel:
-The Villian of Edith Finch, a video I would recommend if you don't have time to watch a movie length video. (https://youtu.be/6bMn4CoyUkM)
-A Critique of SOMA, another short one. (https://youtu.be/J4tbbcWqDyY)
-Super Mario Odyssey – It's no Masterpiece, is a video I don't agree with, but is also a video where his arguments about the game make me analyze my own position on the game. In my opinion, the sign of a good critique. (https://youtu.be/kYJx5xt2cB0)
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Looking for a Place to Happen
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.
This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely
Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore
💀💀💀
The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 
In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.
It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.
As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.
The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 
You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.
You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 
You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.
You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.
You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.
You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 
You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.
You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.
💀
You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.
“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.
“For what?” you scoffed.
“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.
You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.
“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”
“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”
“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”
She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.
“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”
“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.
“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”
“Language,” she huffed.
“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”
“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.
“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”
“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”
“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 
“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.
“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”
“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”
“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”
“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”
“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”
She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.
“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”
“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”
“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”
“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”
“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”
💀
Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.
When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.
You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.
As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 
“More basil,” she snipped.
“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”
“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”
“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.
“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”
“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”
“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”
You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.
You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.
You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.
You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.
“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.
You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.
“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.
The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 
You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.
“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.
“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”
“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.
“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”
“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.
“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”
As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.
“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.
“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.
“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.
“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.
“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”
“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.
“Am I bothering you?” he asked.
You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.
“Sorta,” you answered.
“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”
You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.
“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.
You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.
“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”
“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”
“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”
“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.
“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.
“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.
“Well?”
“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.
“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.
You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.
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snow-in-the-desert · 3 years
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Dramione Recommendations
Ok so, 2020 has been A LOT but on a personal note one of the most surprising things to happen was me discovering Dramione fanfiction and becoming unashamedly obsessed with it. I really didn’t see that coming but I’m here now and I’m here to stay. 
I think I started reading in the Dramione fandom around mid July last year?? (In all honesty I’ve lost any true sense of time’s progression at this point so I could be well off the mark with that) And I’ve decided to compile a list of all my favourite fics I’ve read so far. Why? I really just want to gush over all the amazing writers I have found through this fandom because y’all deserve it. 
Side note: If any of the authors actually sees this post just dm so I can buy you coffee or post you writing supplies or something idk I feel like that’s the least I can do for all your amazing work x
Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing
Ok I have to start with RN because this fic is pretty much the sole reason I decided to create an account with A03 or a tumblr or just decided to get involved with this fandom at all. 
I headcannon this story hard. But I think even if you aren’t a fan of Dramione you should just read this because it is so unbelievably good and well written and poignant and Draco’s sarcastic personality in this is truly a thing of beauty in this - I relate to his inner monologue’s on a deep personal level. 
I could rave about this story any time, any day of the week, just ask me. In fact, maybe I’ll just start a HeyJude19 fan club to fulfill that urge.
There are so many elements that I love but for the sake of brevity, RN is a beautifully told story of Draco and Hermione finding love and healing in a post-war HP setting. Heyjude19 had the very special ability of making me want to simulatenously laugh, cry and swoon with the power of her words. Just stop what you are doing and go read it now if you havent already, ok?  
I also really enjoyed reading Bells on a Hill, Beers, Potions and Unwise Notions and A Shift in Focus, if you are looking for smaller fics, definitely give these a go. They are all funny and heartfelt stoires that will make your tippy toes wriggle with glee. 
The Rights and Wrongs Series by @lovesbitca8
The Right Thing To Do, All The Wrong Things and The Auction are the holy trinity of Dramione writing. I have christened it thus, so mote it be. And frankly I’m not interested in any other opinion than that one, thank you very much!
After reading this series I don’t think I’ll be able to look back on the orginal HP books without thinking of Hermione’s and Draco’s memories of their time at Hogwarts in these fics as anything other than strictly cannon. 
So many things to love about this series but I think one of the major highlights was Hermione and Draco’s use of occlumency. LoveBitca8 created such beautiful visuals with how occlumency works as a magical practice and seeing Draco and Hermione so devoted to eachother to the point of safeguarding their inner most feelings to protect eachother was unbelievably romantic and poetic. 
Also the smut is divine ;)
Manacled by @senlinyu​
My heart will never be the same after reading this story. Like I actually can’t think about this fic without getting a lump at the back of my throat. I have never felt so emotionally ruined after reading anything, compared to the likes of this fic. Just please, please read it. To badly quote HP, reading Manacled will make you suffer but you’re going to be happy about it.
The flashbacks are a rollercoaster in of themselves but the way Hermione inadvertently refers to them when she is still in a state of memory loss was so heartbreaking to read. My heart still aches for them both. Also its a truly satisfying to see Draco and Hermione written in a way were they are both so fiercly protective of one another. They make my insides go soft. 
I also really enjoyed Snow Fall, Now Is A Gift and All You Want by the author but to be honest anything written by Senlinyu is always thoroughly enjoyable and worth a look. 
The Erised Effect by @adaprix​
Ada is QUEEN of dramione smut but ‘The Erised Effect’ is top tier. Its equal parts funny, romantic, sentimental and oh so sexy. Ada really knows how to build and build on sexual tension and doesn’t disappoint on the final delivery. I’m a big admirer of her writing style and just veraciously read whatever she posts but ‘The Erised Effect’ is just golden. A must read. (Also Pansy’s sexual fantasy in this story is a visual I don’t think I’ll ever be able to remove from my brain so thanks for that Ada)
Also quick side note: Adaprix’ stories were the first I read when I was looking into this fandom and it was enough to get me hooked on the pairing from the get go so I have that to thank Ada for too. I remember devouring all the stories she had posted to A03 and when I was done I was like... now what am I supposed to do with my life?? And that’s basically when I began to look deeper into the fandom and thus the course of my life in 2020 changed for the better. 
Some other stories I love by her are Break for Me, All My Sins, The Big 4-0, The Fucklust Series and The Flat in Bath. 
Clean by @olivieblake​
This 6th Year AU where Draco and Hermione work together on a class assignment and end up falling in love had me feeling all kinds of ways when I read it. I almost don’t know where to start but I think one of the stand out things for me was how immersed I felt in reading it. 
Hogwarts is captured really well, you get a good sense of class atmospheres, character nuances and behind the scenes of events that happen in HBP but from a Draco and Hermione’s perspectives. It’s well executed and intricate tapestry of a fic. With an excellent plot twist ending! 
Also Hermione and Draco’s relationship in this is equal parts fluffy and smutty and it just ticks all the right boxes that you want to see for those characters ;)
Breath Mints / Battle Scars by @onyx-and-elm​
The angst in this one is just *chef’s kiss*
God I love this fic. The way Draco is portrayed is very true to his defensive and tetchy character in the original books but he is also given so much more depth. The way his diary entries are written are just so well executed. It’s a true testament to the author’s creative writing skill. And I LOVE how even though Draco is clearly in such a messed up place, he still has a basic level of self respect and dignity that he won’t tolerate being used or undervalued in his relationship with Hermione. 
Yep, I really love Draco’s characterisation in this one if you can’t tell.  But Hermione is also well written too. Her stuggles and trauma of returning to Hogwarts after war is described in a believable and grounded way. And my heart definitely ached for them both. I just wanted to wrap the pair of them in a big fuzzy blanket and tell them that everything will be alright. 
WANDS OUT! by @persephonestone​
This murder mystery / Dramione / Theo x Harry / AU crossover is everything I didn’t know I wanted until I read it. I felt like I was picked up and plonked right into an alternative dimension where all the characters of HP are just living it up in an Agatha Christie novel. 
It’s a funny and clever story that I found refreshing to read amongst all the other fanfics that are usually cemented in the HP timeline or universe. Theodore Nott in this fic is perfection he should be written like this in every fic from now on in my opinion. I couldn’t stop giggling any time he had a scene in the story.
And the ‘only one bed’ trope in this fic is 10/10. I don’t want to give spoilers but ohmygod. It hits all the right notes. 
The One With Technical Difficulties by cassielassie 
Cassielassie has an excellent three part series of Dramone called ‘The One with...” but I have to give special credit to this story in particular for one main reason. ELEVATOR TROPES. I can’t get enough of em. I think I have my early childhood viewings of NCIS to thank for my obsession with elevator tropes they just do something to me that simply cannot be explained with mere words. The palpable sexual tension of being in a broken down elevator with an ‘enemies to lovers’ pairing, a heated arguement breaks out followed by a discovery of mutual feelings and a romantic embrace...
Eugh. It gets me everytime. And this fic is no exception. I loved it for all the reasons I’ve already stated above but also for the attention to detail in Draco and Hermione’s careers makes this one particularly immersive. The dynamics between them established in this one-shot are convincingly portrayed and the chemistry between them is so undeniably hot. 
The Light is No Mystery by @masterofinfinities​
Yooo if you want to read a dramione fic that is a deep dive into Pureblood culture and Post-War recovery but is also a perfect allegory for discrimination and today’s political landscape of moral grandstanding for votes then look no further than this one. 
This story has a bit of everything. Intrigue, mystery, ptsd and recovery, enemies to lovers / secret relationship, government conspiracy and humour, to name a few. I eargerly await every update to this story and am anxious to know how it ends!
The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen 
Finally! A fic that gives me the Ravenclaw representation I crave. I think I could recommend this fic on the lore depicted of Ravenclaw house alone. ‘The Stacks’ and Rowena Ravenclaw’s own ‘come and go room’ are just such cool details that I could see being real in the HP universe. 
This fic is so cosy and makes me feel like I’m just popping back into Hogwarts for another year. You get to see all the usuals like prof. Mcgongall, Nearly headless Nick, PEEVES, Hagrid, as well as learn more about minor characters from the other school houses. The story follows Hermione going to her day to day classes and there are interesting concepts about magic and alchemy that are explored. 
Draco and Hermione’s relationship in this one is of course very fluffy and heartfelt. But it’s the attention to detail that really makes this fic outstanding and the experience of reading it feels fleshed out and true to HP universe.
A shorter fic by HeartofAspen that I recommend is one called Set in Stone, it has an adventurous, Indianna Jones vibe to it, that I am so down for. 
Teachable Moments by @purplesugarquills
In this fic Hermione is an innocent little virgin determined to learn everything about sex. And Draco Malfoy is her tutor. If that isn’t enough to get you on board then I don’t know what is. Both Heartfelt and Steamy. PurpleSugarQuills writes smut so well but it’s the progression of their growing attachment and the nervous treading of new uncharted waters of romantic relationships for both of them that just adds a whole other level of feels to the story. Also chapter 9 is like reading poetry - its so good. Eugh just give it a read if you haven’t already.
Les Pèlerins by @pacific-rimbaud
This story is high art. It’s transcendent. Reading this story feels like the emotional equivalent of standing around a hundred glowing fairy lights, sipping hot cocoa and being wrapped in the loving embrace of a s/o. I can’t speak my praises highly enough or even become passably coherent in my words when I try to articulate a review. 
From the very first paragraph I felt like I was just whisked away on a Parisian holiday and I’ve never even bloody been to Paris but damn it if this story didn’t make me feel like I was there. The writing style is just so tactile and intense it’s like I could feel the cold winter air brush against me as I read it. Eugh I just completely fell in love with the story and the writer. 
New Year’s resolution. Read everything PacificRimbaud has ever posted online. 
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warmau · 3 years
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☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au jaehyun exactly on time for the valentine boy! ........well....... find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle | kun | yukhei | doyoung
how you end up here, you don’t know, but you blame johnny suh because when things get weird it’s usually his fault anyway
johnny’s smile is a thousand and one watts - he reaches out to pass you the beat up guitar case and again, you don’t even take it by choice, it’s nudged into your hands before you can really even say a word
“im not joining your band.”
“it’s not mine - it’s ours.”
jungwoo twirls a drum stick between his fingers and grins from his spot on the garage couch
“no johnny - we all know it’s yours.”
your lips thin and the only reason you don’t fling the case to the floor is because you actually like the guitar that’s inside. 
granted you haven’t seen it since middle school and it probably still has that horrible sticker on the back of it that you remember picking at until all the little pieces you got off were uncomfortably stuck under your nails.
“guys - it’s summer. we have nothing better to do.”
“says you, i got an engineering internship at samsung.” 
jungwoo chirps again and you try not to roll your eyes
we all know about the damn samsung internship dude.
“yeah - and i have to work at the family bookstore.”
mark lee walks in, holding as many redbulls as he can fit between his elbows, they spill out and onto the space beside jungwoo
you listen to mark open one and johnny groan
“ok you all have something to do, but we-” he motions behind him at you “don’t have anything to save us from the boredom that is about to take up two months of our youthful lives!”
“hey-”
you cut in and all three sets of eyes focus on you
“i have something i want to do this summer.”
johnny’s long figure straightens in anticipation while jungwoo cocks an eyebrow and mark gives you an encouraging smile
“im not going to tell you what it is, but it’s definitely not starting a band with you guys.”
you lean the guitar case against a nearby wall and add a half-hearted shrug
“sorry.”
the walk from johnny’s house to yours isn’t long, it takes about fifteen minutes if you’re really going slow. 
plus you’ve done it so many times, you basically set your body to autopilot.
you think about it - the thing you want to do this summer before you go away for university and home becomes a new place and a memory at the same time.
you’re not known for being sentimental, johnny has even gone so far as to label you as a bit ‘apathetic’ . but still you know this is your last chance to really enjoy the place you grew up in.
you turn the corner at the street that leads down to where you live and in the hot evening air you hear something
it’s the sound of a bike, the pedaling is light but the frame must be old because it creaks a little when it slows down slightly to maneuver to the left and pass you.
you look up and see a boy
brown hair still wet from the pool or a shower maybe, dimples at the corners of his smile, the two sizes too big white shirt fluttering behind him in the breeze
for what seems like longer than a second - you lock eyes - his match the color of autumn leaves and teddy bear fur 
and for some weird reason can’t stop thinking about them even well after you get back home
is he new in town? i’ve never seen him before?
finally managing to shake off the curiosity, you fish the shoebox you’ve been keeping under your bed out and open it.
inside there’s only three things so far: 
a copy of your graduation photo, a copy of johnny’s graduation photo, and the prom invite ticket that has jungwoo’s chicken scrawl on the back (he was technically your date, because johnny got proportioned by half the seniors and mark was too nervous to ask if you’d take him)
this is what you were talking about. this is what you want to spend summer doing.
you want to spend it remembering, gathering fragments of your life so far in your hometown with your bestfriends, so that when you move on you have a tangible piece of the memories
the reason you were keeping it a secret though was because.....even you had to admit.......this was a little much 
and you had built yourself a little bit of a hard shell so imagining telling the people you knew that this was your summer plan 
well, you could already hear johnny’s voice saying something like ‘hey, this isn’t a hallmark movie you sap and facetime exists. do you think im not gonna call you at 3 am from across the country like i do now anyway?’ 
you close the box and tap your fingers on the top.
tomorrow, i’ll start visiting all the important places.
your phone pings and it sound echoes through the otherwise empty library. 
a harsh shushing sound comes from the front desk and you quickly answer it, sliding down against one of the bookcases
you’d come here to see if you could find that old series you loved as a kid, the magic treehouse, it’s the books you and johnny fought over when you first met each other years ago
you abandon that though because poor mark sounds like he’s having a panic attack over the phone
“hey, you need to get over here - johnny is holding auditions for a guitarist since you said you didn’t want to do the band”
“ok, so what? it’s just auditions?”
mark’s pleading gets louder, “it’s auditions with JOHNNY - he thinks this is eurovision or something i don’t know please i can’t reign him in and jungwoo’s at his internship - i am dying here!”
you sigh, making it long so mark knows how annoyed you are
“put him on.”
mark’s voice drowns and johnny takes the phone from him
“what did i say with conspiring with them? we are shunning them for quitting on the band! what do you mean you had no other options? what do you mean my egomania is coming out? - anyway hey whats up?”
“stop torturing mark and all the poor kids that showed up to audition.”
“first of all, im not torturing anyone. that would be illegal and distasteful, im just giving my constructive criticism. second of all, if you want to give orders like that then let’s make this a fare trade off. come over and help me judge - i mean hold the auditions and then i will cease my so called ‘torturing’ ala my ‘criticizing’.”
you huff - fine, it’s one day out of the whole summer.
“ok. but you better have snacks.”
“do you think i wouldn’t provide refreshments? what kind of monster do you think i am?”
there’s more people than you expect showing up to audition for this band. half of them are just there to sweet talk johnny or mark,  but the others are all just. bad. 
you never knew how bad someone butcher playing an instrument, let alone a guitar, but you’ve had that eye opening experience today
“how many people left?”
you mutter, face first into your palms and looking up with happiness when mark says only one!
“hey, im jung jaehyun.”
you turn and see the boy from the bike, the one with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, standing in the entry to johnny’s garage
he’s carrying his own guitar case - black leather and well worn but loved
“well jaehyun dude, i hope you can at least play the damn thing because i feel like no one in this town can!”
johnny groans and you straighten up a little as jaehyun comes closer
he sets himself up and you feel something inside your stomach turn when he bends down and you see a bit of the tanned skin of his back
“im not amazing, but i can play some of the classics.”
“wonderwall?” mark asks and johnny snips at him as you try to think of something to say, but suddenly....your brain is fuzzy
“play anything!” 
so jaehyun does, he plays, and he even sings and the fuzziness in your brain turns to white noise and the little drop in your stomach is a whole bundle of butterflies
you barely realize the johnny is already befriending jaehyun and mark is staring at him with those big, impressed eyes
when you get up and jaehyun smiles at you
“so what do you play?”
johnny throws an arm around your shoulder older brother style and rolls his eyes before you get a word in
“you’re actually taking their spot because they’re too busy to be in the band.”
something seems to cast a sad shadow over jaehyun’s features - “oh, you’re not going to play with us?”
words float through your head, none of which you can grasp onto, so you just shake it instead and let johnny ramble on about your so called betrayal
you look at your phone and of course it’s nearing ten and there’s no way you can go to any of the other places on your list so you motion to mark that you’re going to head home
“oh - i have to go too.”
jaehyun slings his guitar case over his shoulder, “but ill come by tomorrow for practice?”
johnny shoots him a big grin and then haggles all the social media jaehyun has out of him
you don’t know why you just don’t start walking - but somehow you end up leaving with jaehyun, making that left turn where you first passed each other
“do you live on this street?”
you jump a little as you nod, “yeah - i think i actually saw you yesterday. you were on your bike so you probably didn’t notice me.”
there’s a polite distance between you two, but jaehyun is smiling when he answers
“oh no, i definitely noticed you.”
you end up thinking about those words the same way you couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes 
except this time, instead of it lasting a day, the thought lasts nearly two and a half weeks
it seems jaehyun is doing a good job fitting in with your friends, considering you don’t get anymore calls from mark 
and you actually start to make progress on your summer project
you manage to get some ticket stubs from old movies, an old science project you did that’s still hanging on the walls of the highschool (open for summer classes), and pressed flowers from ontop of a hill where you almost break your elbow back when you were a freshman
you’re plunging yourself into your past, but weirdly enough every now and then you’ll remember that 
oh no, i definitely noticed you
the six little words make you feel giddier than whatever memento you’re seeking out to tuck into your shoebox
you try to tell yourself it’s just because jaehyun is new - he’s new and the memory of him isn’t old enough to try and find anything to represent him by 
and he kind of represents everything you’re nervous about - new places, new people, new friendships ...... the prospect of a new love
love? 
you look up at the sky as you swing back and forth on the playground you’ve come to collect something from for your memory box 
that’s ridiculous. i’ve had one conversation with him!
you swing your legs back and forth, slowing down and you think twice about jumping off when suddenly you feels someone gently push your back
the swing goes a little higher and you turn your head in surprise to see
“j-jaehyun?”
he smiles and his dimples greet you before he does
“i saw you on my way back from johnny’s.”
he gives you another soft push and you hear that fuzzy noise that always turns the gears in your brain when you try to say something around him
“is - is johnny being nice?”
is all you can muster and jaehyun laughs, the sound melodic but low, just the way the baritone of his voice is when he sang
“very nice, but he is a lot to handle sometimes.”
you kick your legs down and dig your heels into the grass a little, jaehyun grabs the two chains of the swings to help you stop it
when you turn you notice his bike is laying a couple of feet away and so is his guitar
“what about the band stuff?”
“johnny is trying to write songs and stuff, but actually mark is the one that i think has the talent for it.”
you can’t help but feel the corner of your mouth lift up a little, he already knows the two of them pretty well.
“what about you - do you write songs or music?”
jaehyun lifts his bike back up and you take the guitar case to help him
before you know it - you and him are walking side by side again 
“a little, but it’s more about playing the guitar for me. that’s the part that makes me happy.”
you play with your fingers behind your back, old nervous habits rising to the surface
“by the way - why did you not want to be part of the band? johnny said you were busy with something but you didn’t say what.”
you stop 
i should lie, make something up.
jaehyun stops too and the sounds of the bike wheels and footsteps float off into the air
but for some reason, i don’t want to lie. not to him.
“im......leaving after the summer, going to school in another place. so im spending my summer kind of.....im kind of cataloging this place. this town. i’m doing the whole put your memories in a shoebox thing which is so-”
“awesome! i think it’s awesome that you want a part of your home with you, sometimes people are way too excited to get away from their roots.”
you look at jaehyun, who returns the look with a comforting warmth you’ve never experienced before.
it’s a different comfort than the one you get from your friends or your family, it makes your heart beat flutter - slow for a second, then so fast you think your body can’t keep up
he starts walking again and you do too
the silence isn’t weird. it’s a conversation in it’s own way between your two bodies.
when you get to your house - you look at jaehyun again and you have two thoughts
one is that you should kiss him. because he looks so.....kissable.
the second, the one you ultimately choose, is to widen your eyes and go:
“promise you won’t tell the others about it though, they would not let me live it down.”
jaehyun laughs and hooks his pinkie with yours - his skin soft under the setting sun - “i promise.”
and after being caught up in thinking about jaehyun’s eyes, or the way he speaks, you find yourself in the same repeating cycle again
this time. it’s your regret. 
you should have chose option one, because it’s looking like another opportunity to kiss jung jaehyun is not coming any time soon.
and like the two times before, you throw yourself into your summer project to try and not think about it 
(although you do, multiple times throughout the day, at one point blushing at the image of what could have happened if you DID kiss him and then getting snapped at by the angry man at the local deli)
another couple of weeks pass and you swing by johnny’s because it’s a location on your summer memory list and also....
you are curious about how the band is going ...
and you kind of a little want to see jaehyun again......
you arrive and hear jungwoo’s voice to your surprise, followed by the sound of drums and johnny’s sharp “stop, stop, STOP!”
“jungwoo, what is going on - did working at samsung make you into a robot who can only produce code and not drum to save his life?”
“what do you know about drumming johnny? or coding? or anything in general?”
“hey watch the attitude, you’re embarrassing me in front of jaehyun.”
jungwoo snorts and you try to hide your own laugh but everyone turns to you just in time for you to hiccup it back
“ah - the traitor is here!” 
johnny sings and jaehyun gives him a soft elbow to the ribs
“what’s up?” 
mark smiles from his place at the keyboard and you cross your arms
“nothing, hows it going - book any shows? write an album yet?”
“actually, we did book a gig for your information”
johnny waltz his way from the microphone and to a stack of flyers from his couch
he hands you one and this time you do burst out into laughter
the flyer, pink and way over the top, is an invitation to johnny’s end of the summer party
well it’s actually his going away party his parents have planned for him, since he’s also leaving for school
“johnny - you didn’t book a gig. you’re playing your own party.”
“the parents are shelling out twenty dollars to each of us so money makes it a gig.”
you look at jaehyun who secretly rolls his eyes
“sure, sure. can i keep one of these?” 
you fold the flyer and slip it into your pocket, this will make a good addition to the shoebox
“oh are you going to put it in-”
jaehyun starts and you rush over, hand flying over his mouth as the three other people in the garage stare
“going to put it in......the trash. yes. going to throw it right out because really johnny did you use paint-”
johnny flips you off in the kindest, best friend way possible
you let go of jaehyun and throw him a look that he mouths an apology too
somehow, instead of leaving, you end up staying and listening to them practice
you consider it a break from your project and the day is filled with what you’d expect from all of them, laughter and jokes and banter that is only ok between the closest of people
when they finally finish practice and jungwoo and mark accept a gracious ride home from mr. suh 
you say you’ll be off too and jaehyun trots up right behind you, “ill walk with you.”
this time, you hear less of the fuzz in your head and can actually keep up a decent conversation without staring at jaehyun’s lips
you feel closer because of the time you spent today and you almost walk past your house until jaehyun points to the porch
“oh by the way. can i see what you have in the shoebox?”
you look over your shoulder at him, “like right now?”
he gives a casual shrug
“is that ok?”
and now jung jaehyun is standing in your room. well he’s standing in it and then he’s sitting on your bed and rummaging through some of the most personal memories you have.
his long fingers pulling out ticket stubs or notes you passed in class
he chuckles at the graduation photo of johnny and dangles yours over your head when he refuses to give it back 
you tackle him for it and he falls down against your sheets and you make the worst (or arguably best) mistake of your life
when you straddle his hips and rich out to grab it
only to look down and see him splayed open like the pages of a beautiful book
and you remember your regret
it makes your head spin, but you watch in slow motion as the photo falls from between his fingers and you lean down to catch it, but jaehyun presses up and catches your mouth with his.
it’s sloppy, awkward - but only for the first few seconds - until you can both adjust yourselves from your position and do it right and then it is 
astonishing
because it feels like you’re kissing someone you’ve been kissing for years. decades. millennia's. eons. 
it feels like you and jaehyun have been doing this since the big bang.
since humans first came to exist. 
since, gosh you don’t know, since pangea freaking broke apart.
you make out for so long that you lose track of time and it gets late to the point where the darkness of the summer almost makes you ask him to stay over
but jaehyun is just so mannerly that he slips out the back door of your house with a final kiss and a promise to call
which he follows up on earlier than you expect, showing up on your doorstep to take you out for breakfast
only to end up with you two back in your room an hour later, kissing again, and again, and with more hands and less of his shirt or yours.
the only thing that unglues you from him is his phone ringing for what must be the tenth time
“it’s johnny”
you breath against jaehyun’s neck finally
“how do you know?”
“only he calls ten times in a row.”
and like your summer project, you don’t tell your friends about what’s going on between you two
jaehyun says it’s kind of hard to hide the obvious evidence on his body - but you tell him to say it was your other neighbor, or someone from another town
jaehyun agrees just because you pull the doe eye trick on him and he really is learning he can’t say no to that or to you in most situations
but everytime before and after band practice - he’s with you
sometimes he joins you on your little visits to the places still on your lists
when you tell him the sentimental value behind them, you get a little fidgety because being vulnerable is hard 
but jaehyun listens and he says that each memory of yours he gets to watch you relive, helps him learn something about you
you don’t say it out loud - but hearing that makes you want to cry and kiss him and cry again 
an other times, you two don’t do anything heartwarming or special, you just roll around with him, tangled up in one until he has to go
with each day, summer comes closer to 
and end but you fall deeper into each other at a pace that might be alarming if it was any other two humans but the both you
and before you know it - it’s the day of johnny’s end of summer slash going away party 
jaehyun is supposed to be there from like nine in the morning but he stops at your place before he bikes over
kissing your forehead he drops something in your palm
you open it to see his guitar pick 
“won’t you need this for when you play?”
“i’m using my backup. i just thought you might want to put that one in your shoebox........since it could remind you of me......”
he flushes and you bite back your lip, part of you is happy because he’s just so cute it isn’t fair but the other is coming to the daunting idea that 
soon enough - im leaving too, will jaehyun just be another memory to me?
instead of dwelling on it, you peck him again and ask, 
“ill see you at the party?”
the party is most definitely a johnny suh party
the food is amazing, everyone on the planet is invited, and johnny is wearing something so bright it beats out the sun
when you arrive, his mother spends half an hour asking you to take care of him when he finally leaves and you don’t remind her that you’re going to two different places
you don’t see jaehyun or mark or jungwoo around - you assume they’re practicing somewhere for the performance while johnny is juggling both front lead singer and host
the party is fun - it really is - but the words “going away” somehow still make you a little sick
you’re about to escape to somewhere a little quieter, when you hear someone tap the mic on the makeshift stage in johnny’s backyard
you see him - and the rest of the band - gather on as johnny introduces them and shouts excitedly that this song they’re going to perform, written by keyboardist mark, is all about new beginnings!
jaehyun finds you in the crowd, a secret little smile on his lips before the music starts and to your surprise - and probably everyone elses - they actually do pretty good
the lyrics are so very mark, but johnny brings a flare to the way he sings it
jungwoo seems to have remembered how much he adores drumming again and the way jaehyun looks playing guitar is so enticing that you can’t help but feel a little pride in the fact that you’ve been tasting all of that for most of the summer
the sick feeling in your stomach turns into excitement which turns into just pure enjoyment as you watch your friends and your boyfriend up there having fun
when it’s over and they hop down to mingle back into the rest of the party, you really can’t help yourself and throw your arms around jaehyun
you kiss him - which earns a gasp from mark, a half smirk from jungwoo, and a loud clearing of his throat from johnny
you and jaehyun admit what’s been going on and when johnny just whistles you ask him if he’s not mad
“even if i was mad, you would still keep liking each other right - so what’s the point?” 
you hug johnny, and mark, and jungwoo, and like nothing has changed you all fall back into the swing of it
the comfort of being around each other
when you five are the last people in johnny’s messy background you finally decide to tell them all about your summer project
“i knew you’d all say it was lame so i-”
“hey hey hey - it isn’t lame. it’s not what i expect but i get why you’d want to do it.”
johnny pats your shoulder and you feel jaehyun’s hand on the small of your back
it’s the kind of moment you want to never end. 
really, you just want this summer to never end.
but when it does - when the day comes for the temperature to drop and for you to be on your way to a new place
you feel the sadness come in a big wave
johnny, mark, jungwoo, and jaehyun all come to say goodbye and you hold the shoebox in your hands - now heavy and filled to the brim with all your memories
before you say it though, each of them adds something
jungwoo drops his samsung internship ID into it
mark places the paper he wrote the draft of the lyrics to the song they performed at the party into it
and johnny chucks a burned CD version of it into the mix
finally, turning to jaehyun, you take in a deep breath
“i know the distance will be big so if you want to break up and-”
he kisses you before you can finish your sentence and slips a small box that you don’t open until you’re already in your new dorm
inside is a small bracelet, engraved on the inside are the words
“i definitely noticed you. it was love at first sight”
years later - jaehyun says those words again
as he’s reading his vows 
and you’re feeling the fuzziness, the butterflies, the comforting warmth, everything like a tsunami of all the things that are you and jaehyun
and when johnny shows up to present the rings to you two
they’re in that old shoebox 
two little bands at the bottom of all those memories
at the reception, you lean over and whisper to your now husband
“where did you find that old thing by the way?”
jaehyun nuzzles his lips against the cusp of your ear as you watch jungwoo and mark make fools of themselves on the dance floor 
“under the bed, where you put everything you care about.”
670 notes · View notes
bibliocratic · 3 years
Note
45 or 10 from the kiss prompt for JonMartin? :)
Thank you!! :D Number 10 Already posted - > Number 19, Number 26, Number 38
Broad spoilers for S5 up to 194. Content warnings in the tags
MARTIN … and that’ll be all outside, and y-you’ll be able to see them, through the glass doors at the back. […] [muzzy] Jon?
[…]
[slightly more urgent] Jon.
JON [woozy, coming to] Hmm?
MARTIN Just. [obviously relieved] Just checking.
Thought you’d lost me?
MARTIN … a bit. Yeah.
JON I’m still here. [a shifting sound of unstable brickwork] I think one of my arms has gone to sleep.
MARTIN ‘s what happens when you bring the whole building down on us. JON [mock affronted] It was a team effort, thank you. MARTIN [a small quirking laugh, trailing off into a wet-sounding cough] My mistake.
… Jon?
JON … sorry, it’s – hard. To stay awake, now the Eye’s… [a self-deprecating sound] I didn’t realise how much I needed it.
MARTIN [trying to reassure] I know. It’s… it’s OK.  [a gasping wince] Fuuuck. Jesus.
JON Try not to move too much.
MARTIN [through gritted teeth] Fantastic advice. [another grunt of pain] N-not like there’s…  [shuddering inhale] … anywhere I can go.
[the silence is sober, a conversation already had and ran dry]
JON I think I can… give me a…
MARTIN W’ are you doing?
JON I can... if I just…
[the sound of a dead-weight dragging, laboured panting, several moments of this]
[the movement stops]
Argh. That’s… that’s better.
MARTIN [pushing for light-hearted] Any – huh – any excuse for a cuddle. You’re getting dust all over me. JON You weren’t going to be moving to me, so. It’s not exactly my fault you’re more comfortable to lie on than the floor.
MARTIN High praise there, don’t – heh [wincing gasp] use up all your compliments at once.
JON [tentative] It doesn’t hurt when I…?
MARTIN No. Well, yes, but no more than the rest of it anyway.
JON I can…
MARTIN Stay. Please, Jon. I’d… I’d like you to.
JON …
Think anyone’s noticed all this mess yet?
MARTIN I mean, my guess is that Hill Top Road’ll just look like a construction site  to anyone walking past. If it worked… if everything went… went back.
JON It worked. It has to have.
MARTIN [quiet] No one is coming then.
JON No. No, it’s just us.
MARTIN Right. Right. Suppose that’s not the worst conclusion.
JON [trying to keep himself together] No. It isn’t.
[silence for a few moments.]
JON Go – go on then. What’s next?
MARTIN What’s that?
JON Before. You were talking about the house.
MARTIN Oh. Thought you’d tuned out, to be honest.
JON I was listening.
MARTIN Any changes you’d make then?
JON Bigger garden. [a shifting creak of fabric – Martin gasps, and Jon apologises] Maybe a patio area.
MARTIN [winded, recovering with effort] Very fancy.
JON All that walking we did… think we – huh – deserve to be able to sit down in some deck chairs.
MARTIN Too right. [struggling, pushing the words out harsher] Your… your go then, lazybones.
JON What do you want me to say?
MARTIN Just… Tell me about a day we’d have. Any day.
JON [soft, tragically fond and heartbroken] Alright.
[clears throat] Right. So I’m… er, I’m in the kitchen. Um, cooking I guess?
MARTIN Heh, that’s a stretch – I’ve seen your kitchen skills.
[there’s muttering, and a tired chuckle] Ha, OK, sorry, sorry – spoiling the momentum. Carry on.
JON [affectedly prim] Thank you. Right, so I’m cooking. Pasta, o-or stir fry or – something easy, quick, not too much effort. It’s been a long day at work, and I left later than usual. It’s… yes, it’s dark outside, sometime in Autumn maybe, and I’ve put the heating on full blast. You’re… you’re usually home by now, but you… [trailing off]… you… um….
MARTIN [prompting] I’m caught in traffic?
JON [pulling himself back] Y-yes. You text me earlier, t-to tell me you’d got caught at the road works coming out of town, so you’re running late.
MARTIN Silly of me not to have taken the long way round to avoid it.
JON I’ve told you that. You haven’t replied but I know you’ve read it.
MARTIN I’m too proud to tell you you’re right.
JON Heh. Yeah. [a ripped-up out sound]
MARTIN What next then?
JON Give… give me a minute. I-I, er…
MARTIN It’s alright. No rush.
JON [recovering from whatever episode has passed] OK. I’ve… I’ve got the radio on. I’m listening to some sort of talk show, and they’re going on about a political scandal of some sort.
MARTIN Tories at it again?
JON Of course. [warming to the thought] I know the commentators irritate you, so I only put it on when you’re not at home or if I know you’re working upstairs. And I – um… I’ve fed the cats, but they’re hovering around my legs hoping I drop something.
MARTIN [gently teasing] Cats plural, then? We had only had the one before.
JON They’ve multiplied.
MARTIN Hm. Our squadron of cats know you’re a soft touch, and that you’ll accidentally-on-purpose drop something.
JON I would never.
MARTIN Liar.
JON True.
The cats are hovering. And I’m thinking about… well, nothing special. The day, things I want to get done tomorrow. I’ve got a pile of marking to do, but I’m going to leave it, because it’s Friday, and you’re always telling me I need to set healthier work-life boundaries.
MARTIN I’m being listened to? A true miracle.
JON Hush. Anyway, the food… it’s a pasta bake, and it’s in the oven. And I’m tidying up because the kitchen’s messy, and then I hear your key. You’re kind of muttering loudly and I can hear you through the glass in the front door. The lock sticks sometimes, but only ever when you use it.
MARTIN [pained, words pushed through teeth] S-so we’ve a cursed door. N-nice touch.
JON …
MARTIN A-and then…?
JON You… [groaning] Christ, I’m… I’m getting really dizzy.
MARTIN Shh. I-It’s alright, it’s ok. Close your eyes, deep breaths.
JON [a series of stuttering breaths] Y-you come in. Your bag slumps heavy on the floor, I’m always telling you it’ll give you a bad back, the weight you put in that’s making the straps fray. You kick off your shoes, b-but then you set them neatly by the door, right alongside mine. And then you greet the cats and stroke them behind the ears and you fuss and coo in a silly little voice at them.
And then you – you kiss me on the cheek. Without thinking. Not – not that it doesn’t mean anything. Like you’ve… [huff] you’ve done it so many times now it’s a habit, that we’ve had the chance to make over all the years we’ve had together…
Martin?
MARTIN [drowsy, words slurring] K-keep going love. I’m… ‘m listening.
JON [it is audibly harder for the words to come to him, but pushing on almost desperate, voice thick] … and I kiss you back, and ask you how your day was… you have a bit of a moan. Y-you’ve wrapped your hands around me now, and you’re freezing and I tell you if you don’t let go, the dinner’s going to burn, and you tell me the tea will be just fine for another minute, and I tease and ask if you’re speaking Northern again, l-like it’s a running joke of ours – and, huh – you pretend to be offended…
And while we eat, we talk. About… about so many little nothings we’ve made into somethings, a-and…
[drained, lost] I-I can’t think of anything else.
Martin?
[fracturing] Martin?
[a trembling swallowed sob] Alright. ‘s alright, you rest, I-I’ll keep going. Jus’ give me a minute to catch my breath…
[harsh inhale, exhale]
[inhale, exhale]
[inhale, exhale]
[stop]
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goldenkirstein · 3 years
Text
somewhere only we know
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chapter one: somewhere only we know
pairing: eventual jean x gn! reader, as of rn, mikasa ackerman x gn! platonic! reader
wc: 1192
tags: angst, MAJOR AOT CH 139 SPOILERS, major character death mention, mentions of death, mentions of violence. Reader is eldian, but no mention of physical attributes.
a/n: With the end of aot, I needed to write something to cope, this is not fluffy ahhh, but I wrote this while I was crying to this playlist by @alert-arlert (ty for the 10/10 playlist heh). This isn't exactly romance buttttt I don't think I'm done writing this tbh and want to explore that with any upcoming parts. This is also like my second piece of writing for anime and my first time writing something of this sorts lmao, any criticism or advice is appreciated.
next.
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You brushed the hair out of her face.
The past three years had not been easy ones. Not for anyone. The years had been especially unkind towards Mikasa Ackerman.
She stirred in her sleep. You always felt terrible disturbing her; she always looked so peaceful when she was asleep, crimson scarf wrapped around her, chest rising and falling. The withered and whorled bark of the ancient tree hardly being a comfortable resting for the young woman, and yet, the tranquil expression on her face could convince any wandering traveller that the tree was a worthy place to lay one’s worries to rest.
“Mikasa, it’s getting late. We should head back.” For almost every week, for the past three years, you would accompany the young Ackerman to visit the grave of her most beloved. On some days, you would sit with her, reminiscing of days long gone; on other days, the both of you would sit in silence, looking upon the vast fields, the view which once was obstructed by the imposing walls; a grim reminder of the events that transpired years prior. Occasionally, you would watch Mikasa from a distance, allowing her to spend time with her memories of Eren.
“Hm? Oh. Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Mikasa stretched, looking towards the sky. You lent her a hand as she slowly got up. Giving you a tender smile, the young woman thanked you. The both of you began making your way down the hill, one of her hands clutching yours, the other grasping the wilted flowers she gathered from Eren’s resting spot.
You gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “They’re all coming tomorrow. It’s been a while. Wonder if they all look the same.” You glanced down at your feet, the feeling of uncertainty rising in your chest.
The young woman smiled at your actions, “It has, though I’m sure they haven’t changed any more than we have. Knowing them, they would always stick out like sore thumbs, no matter where.”
You let out a faint chuckle, taking a deep breath in as both you and Mikasa approached the small lodgings in the distance. What she had said was true. It was inevitable that all of you would have changed. Turning your head, you observed the Ackerman; she had grown out her hair; the once blunt ends now neatly sat gathered over her shoulder. Mikasa had endured, more than most would have. You understood that. Eren’s actions weighed heavily on you as well, mentally and physically. Oftentimes, you would catch yourself looking at your reflection of a store window, confused as to who you were seeing. A weathered soldier? A traitor to their nation? An Eldian? A devil?
Maybe, Armin had grown his hair out again, like when you all were in the training corps. Were he and Annie together? Connie still hadn’t visited his mother, had he? Did Jean ever shave that excuse of a beard? Your eyebrows scrunched together, questions forming and disappearing in your head. You shook your head, smiling at the thought of your comrades, no, your dear friends, the ambassadors of peace. Did they manage to find a way to curb the threat of war?
Mikasa reached for the handle on the worn door, turning it and stepping inside to the cottage; she closed the door after you came inside and made her way to the washroom.
“It was a long day. I’m going to take a bath. Do you mind making some tea in the meantime?” You gave her a nod and turned to shrug off your cardigan, setting it on the small table by the house’s entrance. You tossed your head back, eyes landing on the grainy mahogany ceiling, your eyelids fluttered shut, and you heard the washroom door close, the sound of water filling the tub following shortly. Opening your eyes slowly, you lowered your head. Walking over to the kitchen, you filled a kettle with water, setting it up on the stove. Leaning back on the kitchen counter, you allowed your eyes to close once more.
You had come back to Paradis with Mikasa on that day.
It was sort of a haze for everyone mostly, the feeling that they had woken up from a long dream. You had thought it was the end of the line for you and your comrades, death inevitable as you were all turned into pure titans in a flash.
You remember seeing her emerge from the smoke clutching Eren's head in her arms, holding him close to her heart. The sight of his decapitated head contrasting the memory of him from just moments prior. He had been sitting with you, explaining why he did what he did, apologizing, sharing his regrets and saying his final goodbye.
Was this death? No, it couldn’t have been. Mikasa was there; she wasn’t dead, was she?
“I should go. If I stayed, Eren...He wouldn’t get a proper burial; they wouldn’t give him one.” Mikasa had come and sat next to you, whispering a goodbye before getting up to leave.
You jerked your head back, scrambling to stand up, stance wobbling, “Mikasa, wait! Where are you going?” She faltered in her step, turning around to face you once more; seeing Eren like this was still a harrowing sight.
“Paradis. It’s useless for me to keep fighting. I’m taking him home.”
“You can’t go by yourself! The Yeagerists would string you up in the square for doing what you did!” Eren Yeager was dead. Mikasa Ackerman had killed him. The Yeagerists would never let her live if they knew that. “I’m coming with you! I won’t- I can’t, lose any more people to this.”
Mikasa’s shoulder’s dropped, giving you a steely-eyed expression. “No. You will stay here with Armin, and he’s taking the blame for Eren. You can work out a plan with him and the others to save humanity.” Armin and the others? Were they alive?
Pivoting around, you saw the hoard of Eldians embracing one another in the distance. A gasp left your lips; you turned to face Mikasa, glassy-eyed, your chest heaving, overcome with relief.
“I’ll be fine. I played my part in this story; I want to go home. Please.” As much as you wanted to run and find Armin, Connie and Jean among the rest, you would never forgive yourself if you left her behind to play diplomat, as she suffered in silence with no one there to comfort her.
You stepped up to her, “Mikasa, I’ve always been by your side, haven’t I? You’re my family as I’m yours, and what kind of person would I be if I abandoned you now? Armin will be fine. He is plenty capable, and besides, who would take care of you?” She opened her mouth to object. You gave her arm a gentle squeeze. She averted her gaze, and she shut her mouth, opting for a curt nod.
And with that, you and the Ackerman girl made your way back to where it all began, your home. Paradis. You turned your head around one last time to watch those closest to you disappear from your sight.
a/n: I hope this was okay, if you liked this story and would like more parts please let me know !! as well as if you wanna see some other relationships blossom with the reader...jean is coming soon tho so yeah
Leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed reading this. I would appreciate it a lot <33
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Text
charmed [7]: ‘night changes’ (remus lupin x reader)
a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7
brief summary: y/n and remus are both teachers at hogwarts and this is his first transformation where he is under wolfsbane. y/n remains in human form as he transforms. werewolf or not, all y/n ever feels is him.
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series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.
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7.
previously, in part 1:
“No, you don’t understand, it’s incredibly, extremely dangerous for a human to be around a were-“ Remus had tried to say, before Y/N had stood up and with a crack, disappeared. A single white dove hovered where she had stood, its wings flapping slowly to stay afloat.
“Y/N?”
With a crack, Y/N had appeared again.
“I didn’t know you were an Animagus.”
Y/N grinned. 
“What, you thought James, Sirius and Peter were the only ones to ever succeed at it?”
Remus still grimaced, shaking his head and looking down.
“It’s still too dangerous, I won’t risk it. I couldn’t possibly think of hurting you, I’m too dangerous-“
“Remus, stop it. You didn’t hurt Peter as a rat back in the day, you wouldn’t hurt a flinging bird either. Plus, I got a serious height advantage on you anyway.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him teasingly, transforming back again into the dove and flying up to the ceiling. Lupin wasn’t convinced.
“Y/N, you shouldn’t-“
The dove reappeared as Y/N and kneeled between Lupin’s legs, taking his face into her hands carefully. 
“Please? Let me be there for you. Let me try-“
“I-“ Remus winced in his crippling self-doubt.
“I promise, if I ever feel unsafe, I’ll fly away. I promise.”
Remus nodded. “I love you.”
Y/N was taken aback, but surged forward to press her lips against his.
“I love you too.”
It was the first time they had said that to each other.
+
The first full moon of the Hogwarts term was now but a day away. As it drew nearer, Remus got paler and grew more irritable, as it always was. 
The students never noticed, as he remained their kind Professor Lupin to them. Remus valued the staff and Dumbledore in extremely high regard, so he mainly kept to himself to avoid conflict.
However, his short temper was not 100% appeasable. 
He was presently in his office, leg anxiously bouncing. He couldn’t help but jitter as restless energy coursed through him. The door opened, and he  jerked his head in its direction, to see Y/N walk in, slightly anxious as well.
“Hi, love.” She said, making her way to him.
“He’s late.” Remus muttered.
“It’s Albus Dumbledore, what do you expect- maybe he had a Wizarding War in Luxembourg to stop before this or something.” Y/N joked, dragging a chair beside her and taking Remus’ hand.
His leg stopped bouncing. 
+
1980.
Remus sat in an armchair in the House of Black’s library, attempting to distract himself before the night would come, a transformation night.
Loud voices reverberated across the walls, and he usually wouldn’t have minded, but the full moon made him more irritable.
“Will you guys stop yelling!” He called out across the hallway to the room where James, Sirius and a couple other Order members were talking over each other.
Sirius shared a look with James and they shrugged, making a motion with their hand asking the others to lower their voices.
“Hi, guys!” In came Y/N’s voice, as she walked through the door after a day of work, setting down her jacket. She joined the table for a few snacks, before inquiring, “Where’s Remus?”
“Ah, in the library.” James said mindlessly, shuffling the pack of cards they were playing with. He spotted Y/N head for that direction, and attempted to add, “But I wouldn’t disturb him if I were-“
But Y/N already walked in the library, wanting to see her boyfriend. She found him buried in a book, sitting slightly uncomfortably in his clothes, as if his body was having pre-transformation aches.
“Hi, love.” She said gently.
Remus peered up from his book and instantly smiled, uncrossing his legs and patting at his lap. Y/N took a seat on him, and he wrapped his arms around her comfortably.
“How was work?” He grumbled, mouth kissing up her arm and shoulder.
“Oh, just the usual.”
He listened to her talk about her day, hugging her as she sat in his lap.
James heard faint sounds of their light voices from the other room, and laughed. Sirius shook his head, both of them amused by their friend’s drastic change in demeanor.
“Little fucker.”
+
Dumbledore appeared in Remus’ office not long after Y/N joined, with a goblet of familiar-looking blue smoke.
“Remus, Y/N. I took the liberty of bringing you your last dose myself, Severus has already done so much. So, you wanted to talk about the logistics of your upcoming transformation.”
Remus nodded, leaning forward and taking the potion.
“This is your first time with Wolfsbane, so we cannot be sure on how it will affect you. However, I trust that it has been brewed properly, so it should do its function, which is to maintain your mental state when you transform.”
“So technically, he could just stay and hide here in his office and wait for the night to be over?” Y/N asked Dumbledore, thumb rubbing over Remus’ hand.
“Yes. If the potion has been brewed correctly, which I am sure it has, Remus should transform into nothing but a harmless wolf. Of course, because this is your first time, if you still wish to go outside and-“
“Yes.” Remus interjected, once he finished the last of the potion. “I wish to still use the Whomping Willow, just to avoid all potential risk.”
“Very well.” Dumbledore smiled, bowing his head. “I have complete trust in you, so you do as you please.”
“And I should… I won’t forget who I am, I won’t lose my mind?” Remus asked.
“No.” Dumbledore confirmed. “Your mental state will stay intact.”
“Then, I can technically be in human form with him.” Y/N gasped as the idea jumped into her head. She was immediately met with startled looks from both Dumbledore and Remus, Dumbledore merely intrigued and Remus looking downright terrified. “I mean, I could be with him. Me, a human.” She added hastily.
Glancing at Remus’ fervently opposed look, Dumbledore merely stood up.
“I will leave that between you two to discuss. Goodnight, and good luck.” He said. “Oh! And one more thing.”
His eyes twinkled. “I hear talk amongst the students since the start of term. About you two.”
Remus and Y/N looked at each other nervously.
“Something about spotting their Charms and Defence teachers always being present in each other’s offices…”
Y/N mouth dropped in shock, trying to figure out how students could even know where they spent their nights, before Dumbledore laughed heartily, shaking his head.
“I kid, I kid, I have heard nothing of the sort. All that has reached my ears are the raving comments about your classes and subjects. Keep up the good work, Professors.” Dumbledore chuckled, and vanished into the fireplace.
Y/N stared dumbfounded at the spot he disappeared, before letting out a laugh.
“I-“ She blinked. “He is so weird, and can you believe, I almost let slip that I’m an Animagus-“
She stopped once she looked at her husband, whose expression was grave.
“Wha-“
“You cannot stay in human form with me.” He shook his head.
Y/N stayed silent for a second. “Why not? If this potion works, and we know it will, your-“
“We can’t be too sure!” Remus sighed. “Werewolves, we hunt for humans. We look for victims to bite, to… to-“
“If the potion doesn’t work, then I’ll just transform into a dove, like always.”
Remus met her eyes in a worried gaze.
“I’ve been a bird countless of times on your transformations, you’re still gonna let me do that, are you?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You even said, werewolves look for humans, animal companions are harmless-“
“Which is exactly why you can’t be in human form, darling! The extreme danger that would put you in, you have no idea.”
“I have no idea?” Y/N pursed her lips, instinctively reaching out to her bicep, on which lay a tiny white scar.
Remus glanced at it too, with almost hatred and remorse in his eyes, as he sighed, hand tracing over it and kissing it.
+
“Maybe you should transform right now, my love.” Remus said anxiously as he, Y/N, James, Sirius and Peter walked through an abandoned part of the woods.
The sky was dark, and the clouds radiated a faint shimmer indicating the full moon would appear soon.
“I won’t transform until I absolutely need to.” Y/N said firmly, hand holding onto Remus’ tightly.
“She’ll follow our lead, Moony, don’t worry.” Sirius said.
Unintentionally, they stopped at a small hill, deeming the timing to be right.
“Y/N, it’s not too late, you could just Disapparate away, I-“ Remus said to Y/N.
“Remus. Stop. I’m not scared.” Y/N smiled at him, cupping his cheek. “You’re still you. And I love you, all parts of you. Nothing will change that, or you and me.”
Remus nodded, breathing quickly and pulled her in for a kiss, before the other Marauders beckoned Y/N to back away slightly as the moon started to peak.
The night changed in an instant.
The opal orb shone in the sky and in the moonlight, Y/N watched as Remus’ tall silhouette trembled, his body morphing into a werewolf.
Y/N was in awe. His body lengthened. His shoulders were hunching. Hair sprouted visibly from his head and neck and his hands curled into clawed paws. Straightening up, he howled to the sky, the sound echoing into the rest of the night.
Y/N’s mind went blank. The Marauders had transformed as she kept her eye on Remus. For a second, the werewolf’s eyes met hers, but before she could do anything, he lunged for her.
Adrenaline shot through her body as the werewolf made a swipe towards her, a big black dog jumping in between them just in time for Remus’ sharp claw to slightly graze her shoulder before she transformed with a crack, into a dove and flew up, batting her wings.
+
“I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.” Remus whispered painfully, finger tracing over the small permanent scratch near Y/N’s shoulder.
“But I’m fine.” Y/N pursed her lips, eyes looking into Remus’ face imploringly. “Because I knew that it wasn’t you. And after the night ended, you cared for me so tenderly and lovingly. Gently. Because that is the real you.”
+
Remus soaked a warm towel for the millionth time as he sat Y/N on the toilet next to the sink to tend the small scratch she had acquired from him.
“Rem, it’s okay, do you realize that I’ve broken literal bones before! This is nothing.” Y/N said, letting him clean the patch of skin before taking both of his hands in hers. He kneeled in between her legs.
“I could never forgive myself for this, I’m so sorry-“
“Please. In the best way possible, shut up.” Y/N smiled, eyes welling up at the unnecessary look of remorse plaguing Remus’ face. “That wasn’t you. And nothing that I saw or felt last night changes who you are to me now.”
“You don’t…see me as a monster? You don’t even feel a tiny bit scared being with me right now?” Remus teared up.
Y/N smiled, eyes crinkling and letting tears fall down her cheeks. “I just feel you.”
+
Y/N woke up from her nap the night of the full moon to find Remus’ side of the bed empty. Eventually, she had gotten Remus to agree to let her accompany him as she always did, but in human form this time.
Getting up, she spotted Remus already at the door. She crossed her arms.
“Are you running away?” Y/N frowned, her husband jumping at getting caught.
“No, I-I figured I’d head out earlier.”
Y/N walked towards him, squeezing his shoulders.
“We talked about this. It’ll be okay.” Y/N reassured him. She saw the fear still in his eyes but he nodded, blinking some away and reaching to get Y/N’s coat for her.
They walked in the chilly night air, making their way to the Forest. Although this felt completely new, they had never done this at Hogwarts and they were expecting new results tonight, there was also a sense of déjà-vu present in the air.
Y/N had been helping Remus with every one of his transformations during their entire marriage and before, ever since she was 18. It’s been almost 13 years that they were in this together.
We're only gettin' older, baby
And I've been thinkin' about it lately
“Thank you for being here.” Remus said, squeezing her hand. “And I don’t just mean tonight.”
Y/N squeezed it back tightly, beaming at him. The moon was close to being fully out, and they stopped on a small hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut where it would appear in full view.
Does it ever drive you crazy
Just how fast the night changes?
“Remember, if I make any sudden moves, you transform on the spot, okay?” Remus looked down at her, eyes full of conviction. Y/N nodded.
They both stood there, waiting, anticipation through the roof. They felt nauseous, from nervousness. The clouds began to fade, and more moonlight shined onto them. Slowly, they let go of each other’s hands and took a couple steps back from each other.
Everything that you've ever dreamed of
Disappearing when you wake up
The first beam of light hit Remus as the full moon emerged.
But there's nothing to be afraid of
Even when the night changes
His neck began elongating, thick hair growing from his head and covering his back. His shoulders hunched as he grew taller, breaking through the material of his clothes. 
It will never change, baby
Y/N watched from a short distance as Remus morphed into a towering creature. Her incantation was ready in her head, just in case she had to transform into the dove.
It will never change, baby
Slowly, the full-fledge werewolf straightened up from its hunched over position. His eyes met Y/N’s and her body tensed, remembering. Instead of lunging at her, he sat down, his human-like eyes expressing gentleness. Y/N took a tiny step towards him.
“Remus?” She said, voice trembling.
The werewolf nodded.
Taking steps closer, she shakily got down onto her knees to join him on the ground. She lifted a hand, tentatively, and inch by inch, approached it to cup his cheek. At the contact, they both breathed out in relief.
“I just feel you.” Y/N smiled, tears flowing from her eyes.
It will never change me and you.
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to be continued
a/n: as always i’d love to hear what u thought or what ud like to see of the series:)
tags @bicyhot1  @pink-hufflepuff  @legitlaughingflamingo @brod16  @gerardonmyway  @blueleonor  @suranne-doesstuff  @rxmusblxck  @spxllcxstxr  @littleemo477  @just12randomfandoms  @svnkissdd  @norrreee  @m4r13l3y  @jess6578  @rorysreallyrandom  @the-nightingale-not-the-lark  @archeve19  @wolfstarslovechild  @pan-pride-12  @x4kai4x  @chrrybmb-mp3  @reggieluna  @happyslittlekitten  @missemilygilmore  @all-things-fictional @strangefirething  @abitofeverythinggg  @yeahshewayout  @imfreeeeeee123  @harold-pothead  @lunnybunny12  @ellieblack11  @tugabooos  @joyfulbiscuit  @justonemorechapter07 @wonderwoman292  @skateb0red  @secretsthathauntus  @siriusblackswhoree  @sabonbonn  @untraveled-road  @annabeljareau  @valiantobservationkitty @diffbeanofbrand  @theeicedamericano​  @spencerreidlove  @flannellover67  @wishiwasdeadric  @becks7401​  @katsav17  @emmy-kitty13  @purritoqueen  @girl22334  @monicafebyana​  @talsiaa​  @sierrax023​  @axva03  @uhh-dk  @nataliahgrace​  
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givemethatgold · 3 years
Text
Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.
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Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.
Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.
There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.
Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon. 
It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet. 
You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.
You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.
All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.
Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.
This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.
This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.
"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"
"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"
He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.
Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.
It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.
Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...
This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.
The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.
Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.
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This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.
"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.
"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."
“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"
"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"
"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"
Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.
An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.
Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:
Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.
It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.
"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"
The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.
His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.
"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."
Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.
"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"
Silence.
Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.
"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"
His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.
"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”
Part Thirteen
153 notes · View notes
najatheangel · 3 years
Text
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genre: fluff, drama, and comedy. high school au!
pairing: Choi San x Reader
author's note: apart of the Ateez Summer Collab hosted by @bangchan-fairy My first official posted collab please let me know what you guys think. Enjoy your summer! ✨
word count: 5.3k
summary: After slacking off junior year and struggling to juggle responsibilities, you're stuck retaking your math course in the summer. With your future on the line, you were stuck with San to work together with you so you both can pass this summer course as seniors. You two seem to have a hard time focusing on your studies. Is it because you don't understand the work or a certain someone that's distracting you
taglist: @purplepsycho03 @melonmochimoon @neptunehobi @soleilsuhh @dundun-baby @kpopsnowball (Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.)
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Your stepmom Maria seemed to be very disappointed in you once again for letting her down this year. She had planned so many family trips, vacations, and hangouts for the whole family to enjoy this summer, but thanks to my failing this dumb math class, I have to be stuck in this school until July.
“You better be lucky I can afford for you to retake this class. Your reckless behavior has gone on long enough.” Your mom walks beside you upstairs inside Walnut Hills Highschool making sure you don’t skip out on the first day of summer school.
“Mom, you know you don’t have to walk me to class. I know what I’m doing!” You groan at her as she links her arms with you in the hallway.
“Clearly you don’t! If you did you wouldn’t be stuck here retaking this class. Now we’re almost there so keep your head high and lose the tude.”
There it was class 2A once again. This class was an absolute nightmare. I took a deep breath and slid the door open slowly with my eyes halfway open anxious to see who was sitting in the classroom.
“Welcome back miss Y/LN! Good seeing you again.” Mr. Harris said with a smile. This sucker, you had a love-hate relationship with Mr. Harris. You loved the fact that he was super nice and helpful when he was your English tutor freshman year, but you hated how he had a crush on your mom and how weird teacher-parent conference meetings would get when they would sneak off with each other in his office.
“Good morning Mr. Harris. Good seeing you again.” Your mom blushed to try to contain her excitement, but it was too obvious. “Anyways I’ll be heading my way out. She’s all yours for the summer.” Your mom gave you one last hug and kiss on the cheek before she left.
You sighed, rolling your eyes, fanning yourself already sweating from the classroom’s lack of cold air blowing. You complained again by saying.“Mr. Harris, are we staying in this room all summer? I’m sweating like a fat pig.”
“Unfortunately, yes. The PCs in the computer lab have been shut down and the school plans on replacing them with apple PCs by august. So these are the cards we’ve been dealt with. Let’s get started shall we.”
All the students in the classroom sighed, taking sips of their water bottles as Mr. Harris took attendance.
“Let’s see...We have Angela, Oliver, Chris, Yui, Y/N...Who’s missing? Choi San?”
“Here.” San slams the door open, arriving 20 minutes late with his chocolate milk in one hand and a glazed donut in the other. “Sorry Mr. Harris, I’ve overslept.”
Mr. Harris sighs, shaking his head, chuckling to calm himself down. “As expected. Just glad that you’re here, please have a seat.”
There was only one seat left which was in the front next to you and that would of course be his assigned seat for the rest of the summer.
You never heard much of San except everyone saying that he dropped out sophomore year.
You remember having a crush on him during freshman orientation when you both were shadowed by this kid named Lee Know. The whole time you were quiet, but you remembered staring at the handsome devil strutting in his uniform the whole time.
So to see him once again took you and everyone by surprise.
“Class, make sure you remember your partner’s name sitting next to you for this summer because you will work together in order to pass this class.”
“Say what?” You look over at San, who was making origami at his desk. “Good seeing again kid.” He smirks at you leaving you speechless. “Want a donut?” He reached out, handing a piece to you.
You were slamming your head on the desk thinking to yourself. “Mom, I know I promised I would finish this class, but I don’t know if I can...”
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Mr. Harris had you paired up in groups of two to complete a series of word problems and online on this website called Pearson. On the bright side, walnut hills provided MacBooks for students that didn’t have their laptop, but of course, if they tried to watch Netflix, facetime with their friends, or search for something inappropriate, their laptop will be shut down for 24 hours until further notice.
The first two weeks were pretty quiet between you and San because both of you aren’t necessarily the best conversation starters and whenever San would ask you something it would only just help him cheat on an assignment or help him make up an excuse to skip class. Up until the third week hit you had enough of his excuses trying to avoid doing the work.
The third week you were assigned to work on three hours of pre-cal on the computer and you had the option to locate to a different classroom of course if you couldn’t focus in a cramped room full of sweaty students. So you and san decided to work in the math lab across from class 2A and try to work out a plan.
“Listen San I know this class is our worst enemy, but I promised my mom I would graduate next year and If I have to restart my junior year again I would die of embarrassment. So please try a little harder.” San sighs nodding to your proposal looking deeply into your eyes.
“Fine. I guess I’m in the same boat. I figured retaking junior year would make my mom mad too.” He reaches his hand shaking it with yours smiling.
Your heart starts pounding pretty fast as you're exchanging the agreement with San and you gaze your eyes back at the computer again clearing your throat.
“So, all we have to do is remember the methods Mr. Harris taught us and we'll be alright. What section are we on?” San scrolls through his laptop trying to login into his Pearson account. “I believe it's section 3.A. 20 questions which are due this Friday?! Man, Mr. Harris won’t give us a break.”
You giggled at his surprised reaction. Sometimes he can be soft which makes you melt inside even more. It made you wonder why he was always hanging around with the rebels with no future at school. Maybe life at home was rough and he didn’t have a lot of friends. All these questions were running through your head, which made you not realize that San suddenly moved closer to you.
“You need help with that problem? You were staring blankly at the screen for the past 10 minutes. Here let me show you how to do this.” San wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to writing the answer problem step by step to help you understand it better, but that wasn’t exactly helping.
All you were doing was admiring his beautiful face to face. It made you remember the first time you saw him with his glowing melon skin, sharp jawline, the way he can pull off a white collar and a striped tie it just seemed impossible.
On top of that his knowledge in math made him 10x more attractive, but you couldn’t understand why someone as brilliant and essential as him set himself up in the wrong crowd and stuck in this situation that cost him his high school diploma.
“So that’s how you get y= 18 + 15x. Any questions?” “Yeah, why the hell are you so fine. Forget Mr. Harris, you can be my tutor.” Would’ve sounded better in your head, but you accidentally said it out loud.
San looked at you with his eyes flashing open and then he burst out laughing. “Well Ms. Y/LN if I knew you were having this much fun, I would’ve signed up for this a long time ago.”
“Same here. You know I didn’t think math was your thing. How come you're so good at it?” He sighs, leaning looking up at the ceiling as his mood changes very quickly. “My dad is an entrepreneur and a CEO of his own company.
He’s very good at math so he taught me at an early age so someday I can take over his company someday. He’s never home at times either so I’m pretty much always helping my friends with their math homework as a side hustle.”
“That must be tiring. I know that must be a lot of pressure for a 17-year-old.” San nods his head in agreement and says “It is, but hey that’s what I’ve been dealing with all my life. We got to finish these questions so we can go home early.” With the both of you panicking you turn back to your computers finishing the last set of problems.
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You were having so much fun at school with San that you forgot you had to make it to dinner on time with your wicked stepmother. Ever since you’ve started your sophomore year at Walnut Hills your father was keeping his dating life a secret until he unexpectedly announced that he wanted to marry Maria. Your dad was always the playboy so it always would irritate you whenever he brings another woman into the picture.
Your father planned on marrying Maria by the time you’ve graduated high school, but that all ended in tragedy when your father one day died in a car accident on the way to your volleyball game. This is why you quitted sports, fell out with your best friends, and flunked almost all your classes. Maria has always shown tough love even when your dad was around, but that’s because she never knew what it was like to raise children and she wanted to learn to become closer to your family, but your relationship with her was always rocky.
Arriving late at night you’ve run to your house sweating and panting to your angry stepmom in the kitchen tapping her foot.
“Y/N, do you know what time it is? School ended at 5. Why are you late for dinner? This better is good missy.” You caught your last breath and then rolled your eyes at Maria’s snarky comment. “Me and my partner in my class took longer than expected to finish our assignment. Sorry, okay?”
You’ve slammed your backpack on the back of your chair and grabbed a plate of yong chow rice to eat with your family. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me? I just asked a simple question. Don’t tell me your working with that Choi San guy?”
You shook your head as you started to feel yourself explode at the dinner table, but you let her finish. “I know that because Mr. Harris told me. Look all I’m saying is you better stay concentrated on getting out of summer school and don’t fool around with these boys. Got it?”
You’ve finally snapped and stood up slamming the table with your fists. “You know what, I don’t understand why you're nagging me about every little thing going on in my life. You can’t just be proud that I finished my assignments for this week. But, no you keep finding ways to complain to me about me not working hard enough or messing around. I’m getting really tired of it. That’s why I hate it here!”
“Y/N! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.” She followed you all the way upstairs until you closed the door and locked it in her face. You were too tired and frustrated to be dealing with her constant ranting so you’ve just sat in your room, put your AirPods on, and blocked her yelling from the background. “We’ll talk about this another day. Psh teenagers.”
For the rest of the night, you smush your face in your pillow crying yourself to sleep. You look back on the polaroids of your dad around your room and through your phone missing his presence in your home. “Dad, why did you leave me alone with her? If it was just the three of us, things would be so different. I miss you.”
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Your partnership with San seemed to improve drastically which was surprising, to say the least. All the other kids in the class however didn’t seem to improve. Some were either cheating or missing the deadlines. Mr. Harris was not pleased by the results so he found other alternatives.
“You know what class, here’s what we’re about to do. To make this a lot more fun, how about we do class activities for extra credit. Since some of you are glued to your devices nowadays we can play games like Kahoot, Jenga, and Tetris to answer questions. I can even narrow down the questions on the assignments. How does that sound?” Everyone in class chants and cheers loving the idea which keeps them even more motivated to continue working.
“Alright everyone the games won’t start today, but next week. This is the last week of June and summer school so that means we’re halfway there from finishing. You cannot screw this up. Try acing this week’s quiz with 90% everyone or no games for those with below 70%. Got it?” “Yes, Mr. Harris!” You’ve become closer to the class since it was only nine of you, but your best friends are Angela, San, and Chris. The four of you stopped for ice cream after school to study for this week’s big math test that covered five sections.
“Gosh, Mr. Harris put 40 questions on the test! What the hell is he on crack?”
Everyone laughed at Chris complaining. He would always try to find shortcuts just so he can finish playing PubG, but he always ends up getting in trouble because he procrastinates too much. The only reason he’s somewhat doing well is because of his girlfriend Angela.
She was always a straight-A student and a bit of a geek at school, but outside of school, she was a baddie. She ended up having to retake pre-cal because she wanted to offer to help Chris with homework but ended up failing with him. “Oh hush it’s not even that bad. If you would’ve done those practice problems like you were told, you wouldn’t be complaining so much.” She slaps the back of Chris' head making him spat out his dip cone.
San looks at them admiring their silly dysfunctional relationship and then looks at you mesmerized. He leans in whispering in your ear saying “Why can’t we be more like them. They’re cute together.” You turned to him, slapping his shoulder softly giggling. “We shouldn’t. We agreed to only focus on school, remember?” He looks at you pouting “Does it have to be strictly about work? Like Mr. Harris said, we can have fun with it. We are partners after all.”
You look to the side trying to avoid his gaze as you take another spoonful of mint cocoa. With your sloppy spoonful of ice cream leftover on your face, San quickly grabbed a napkin from the table and whipped your face. “Be careful, you had a little mint chocolate on your face.” He kissed the side of your lips and smirked at you right afterward leaving everyone shocked.
“You guys are hot together.”
Chris with no filter shouted out leaving you a blushing mess. You quickly grabbed your ice cream and backpack as you heard your stepmom pulling up at the dairy parking lot. “You know what duty calls. I’ll meet you guys at the same time tomorrow at San’s place just like we planned. I gotta shave my legs. Later!” San wanted to grab your arm real quick to give you a proper goodbye, but you already beat him to it by sprinting to the car.
“Honey, why did you run in the car so fast? You would have finished your ice cream-”
“No time for that, just drive Mom.” Maria laughs looking at you covering your face with your cardigan and looking at San’s pouting face playing with his spoon he just ate from his ice cream. “Reminds me of the good old days when I was in high school.” Your stepmom cranked the engine and drove all the way home.
When you arrived home you flopped your body on your bed trying to focus on finishing studying for your test by yourself, but all your thinking about San’s kiss replaying in your head over and over again. “Ugh that San man, why did his lips have to be so soft? I'm supposed to be finding the formula for x, not the formula to get into San’s heart.” You’ve pulled out your laptop attempting to send an email to Mr. Harris said that you wanted to switch partners, but you prevent yourself from pressing send through your mouse.
“There’s no point. We only have four more weeks plus he would be upset if I do that. I just need to calm down.” You’ve closed out of your email tab and finished your homework sinking in your thoughts.
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“Dad, hey it’s me again, I just wanted to leave a voicemail letting you know that later on today I’ll be bringing my friends over to work on studying for our big test. It would be nice for you to meet them, but of course, I know work is more important. Anyways please come visit again sometime soon. Love you, peace.” San sighs, hanging up the phone as he sets the table up getting ready for you, Angela, and Chris to come over. San has always learned to live basically on his own growing up.
His father is always running off on business trips, his mother left him at a young age to marry a wealthy man and his older brother was already out of the country to join the Navy. His brother was the only person he can count on for family events when it came to birthdays, Christmas, and even father’s day. At least his brother could attend and catch up with his crazy high school life.
Snapping out of his train of thoughts he opens the door as soon as he hears the doorbell ring. “Coming!” He fixed his Pikachu long sleeve and parted his hair before he opened the door. He was smiling so wide after seeing it was you, Angela and Chris.
“C'mon in you guys. Welcome to mi palacio. Let’s study in the living room.”
Everyone ran to the living room pleased with the smell of pina colada candles filling the house. You were shocked that San got to live in this huge nicely decorated home yet you seem to notice that his family is not present.
You see picture frames of him when he was younger in a monster inc sitting on the fountain at Disneyland.
There was also another cute family photo of San’s best friend named Wooyoung that he met since kindergarten, but sadly they ended up cutting ties since they went to different schools.
A picture that stood out from all of them was one of him sitting on his mom’s lap when he was five smiling super hard with his pretty white smile. You’ve never seen him smile that hard and you were always curious more about his past so the family photos have shown a nice glimpse into his past “Hey y/n cmon I made some ramen. We have to pull out the flashcards so we can study.” “W-wait, but your baby pictures I want!” “No time we can look at them later.”
He winks and gently holds your hand and walks downstairs with you.
“Here goes the love birds. We have to try San’s famous spicy ramen dish before it gets too cold.” Everyone sits down at the dinner table clasping their hands together ready to dig in until the door opens.
“Surprise brother! Sorry I’m late. Did I miss dinner?” San’s brother Jinhyuk walks in with veggie wraps and steak bulgogi in his hand. San runs up to his brother hugging him super tight happier to see that he finally made it home. “Guys this is my brother Jinhyuk. Jinhyuk this is Chris, Angela, and Y/N.”
Jinhyuk smiles at everyone greeting everyone. “So what’s been going on with you guys? I know you have been stuck in school together, but what have you guys been doing outside of school?” Angela started by saying “Well so far me and Chris have been seeing each other every day. We always go to the park or the carnival when we get the chance for dates. We have also been hanging out with these two right here.”
Chris joined in saying “Exactly right. You can say we’re like the Scooby-Doo gang of course without scooby.” San laughs adding on “No way you’re definitely Scooby. Angela is Velma, I’m Freddy, and Y/N is Daphne.” Everyone at the table laughed as they enjoyed San’s ramen catching up with each other.
Jinhyuk elbows you as he chats with you in the kitchen. “Hey, I noticed that you were sitting there staring at my brother. What’s going on with you two.” Your eyes flashed wide open as you were surprised by Jinhyk’s sudden question. You faced him scratching the back of your head not knowing how to answer his question. “Well, I honestly don’t know. I think he just likes teasing me. One minute he flirts with me, the next minute he treats me like one of the guys. My mom also doesn’t want me getting distracted so I’m trying to keep my distance.”
Jinhyuk laughs and then pets your head. “Well, you both already failed at keeping your distance. I think he likes you, but since you keep running away or avoiding him too much, he feels like he’s making you uncomfortable and that you strictly want to stay as friends. I wouldn’t give him the wrong idea to be upfront about how you feel about him. You got this kid.” He grabs your empty bowl for you and washes the dishes giving you that boost of confidence. “You know what you're right. Mama didn’t raise no punk. I’ll tell him after we finish studying. Thanks, Jinhyuk I owe you the next time you visit.” You give him a thumbs up and skip happily out the kitchen looking forward to seeing your friends.
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After hours of studying flashcards, everyone finally studied feeling confident in themselves about the final test of the semester. Everyone packed their things and was ready to head home since their parents were outside. You were the only one that still felt confident about your process throughout the class so you’ve decided to stay an extra hour to study with San.
“Are you sure this is right?” You put the pencil down crossing your fingers as San checks your work. “Wow yes, that is correct. See you’re doing just fine. You only got 7 wrong out of the 40 questions. Just keep using that method I taught you and you’ll be just fine.” San smiles at you pinching your cheeks. “It’s 10:30 pm. Your mom is going to be worried about you. You should start heading home. I'll drop you off.” San started putting his notebook and laptop back on his desk getting ready to leave his room, but you pull on his sleeve bringing him back down on the couch with you.
“Wait, um why don’t we watch a movie or something. My mom is out with Mr. Harris anyways they won’t be back until the morning. I kind of told her I was spending the night at my cousin’s house.”
San smiles, shaking his head gulping, sitting back down next to you. “That sounds nice and all, but I don’t want to get you in trouble. Plus you do realize you’re staying over at a boy’s house at night.” You lean your head on his shoulder holding his hand yawning. “I know I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything unless I told you I wanted to. Just for tonight please San?” San sighs, lifting your chin patting the back of your head. “Fine, but next time let me meet your mom. I want to know everything there is about you okay?” You nod linking pinkies with him. “Deal. Now let’s watch Money Heist Shall we?”
The next morning you wake up in San’s arms as you share a blanket on the living room couch. You woke up fixing his messy black hair struck by his sleeping face. “Gosh you're even more dreamy when you're sleeping.” You checked the time on your phone and realized what time it was.
Pre-cal normally starts around 10, it was 11:20. “San gets up, we're late for class! We can’t miss this one Mr. Harris is giving us get extra credit today.” San woke right up alert as he wiped the drool from the side of his mouth.
“Dang, we gotta go. Here brush your teeth real fast, brush your hair and let’s roll.”
The two of you got ready as fast you could and hopped right on his motorcycle speeding through the traffic throughout the city.
You wrapped your arms around San the whole time scared you’ll fall on the motorcycle. San felt so happy whenever you depended on him for anything. “God I love this girl. I know they say I’m too young or going too fast, but I can’t help it.” He mumbled under his breath as he arrived at the school.
“Well well if it isn’t San and Y/N. You better be lucky you didn’t miss the test. We just got done playing Kahoot.” The two of you poured with your heads looking down feeling ashamed as you walked to your seats. The two of you took one last glimpse of each before Mr. Harris handed out the test.
This was it after everything you’ve been through this past month with San and your friends. The hard work was going to determine if you actually made it through or not. Mr. Harris gave you a whisper of encouragement you never heard in a long time except for your dad. “Y/N no matter what happens I’ll always be proud of you. Finish this strong.”
Mr. Harris' words almost moved you to tears as you smiled and nodded your head right back at him. Now you understand why Maria loved him so much he was always passionate about teaching and cared about your well-being.
You grabbed your pencil and your laptop as you started getting to work. The whole time you were nervous and a few questions caused you to slip up, but in the end, you remembered how to do most of the work. San seemed to be holding up just fine so you weren’t too worried about him, Angela would always double-check her work before turning it in and Chris was surprisingly focused the whole time.
As everyone finished their tests Mr. Harris checked everyone’s grades one by one slowly seeing their process.
He stands up taking off his glasses and says. “Class...congratulations on becoming seniors! Everyone has passed summer school. See you in the fall.”
Everyone screamed cheering as the paper was flying and everyone in the classroom cheered. “Yeah, you guys hang out at the carnival!” Chris screamed and everyone followed him out.
Before catching up with everyone you called your stepmom to tell her the good news with Mr. Harris next to you.
“Mom, I finally passed. Dad’s face right now you know he’s probably crying. It was all thanks to Mr. Harris too, he's the best teacher ever.”
You can hear your mom’s voice on the other end as she gets teary-eyed. “Your dad would definitely be so happy that you passed, but also pissed because he never wants you in summer school ever again.” The three of you laugh together as you share the happy news.
“I’m so sorry I doubted you and was super harsh y/n. I love you and just want you to succeed. Your my only banana muffin I got in this world so don’t pull off any dumb crap like this ever again.”
“Yes mom, you know I will. I made a promise to dad after all. I will graduate and stay close to you if it’s the last thing I do. Love you, I'm going to the carnival with my friends.”
Maria makes kissy noises back and says “I love you too. Don’t stay out too late. Matter of fact I’ll meet you there since me and Harris have a date anyways. See you there.” You hang up feeling emotional as you hug Mr. Harris.
Mr. Harris pats you on the back saying “Didn’t I tell you she’s very proud. Now I think you need to catch up with your friends before he leaves without you. I’ll meet you at the carnival.” Mr. Harris leaves the classroom giving you one last smile and heading out.
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You walked in the hallway looking all around the school for San, luckily you found him in the science lab where he’s sitting by the window with a sad look on his face.
“San. We’ve gotta meet up with everyone at the carnival. Why are you here by yourself?”
San sighs, crossing his arms.
“There’s no point in celebrating. I tried reaching out to both of my parents to tell them about one of the biggest accomplishments in my life and as usual, they didn’t answer.” You sat right next to him at the window petting his head. “You know what, how dare they? Forget them.
You have a supportive big brother, an amazing group of friends, and the best teacher a school could ever ask for. You have a family right here and we’re proud of you.”
San lifts his head up as he sees your bright smile that always makes him helpless.
“You always know exactly what to say. What would I do without you?”
He links pinkies with you. “I really can’t wait for you to meet my stepmom. She gets on my nerves sometimes and we always tend to bump heads, but we always come right back together. Dad would’ve also loved you. He was always straight to the point and never held back. I loved that confidence he always had.”
“Oh yeah he did get into that accident last year, I’m so sorry about that.”
You shake your head “It’s alright, I’m still holding up just fine. I’m just happy to have you here with me plus I get to be seniors with you and everyone else.” San looks up at you one last time slowly leaning his face close to yours until your noses touch.
“Gosh, I wonder what would happen if I made out with Y/N in the science lab? The janitor would for sure catch us in the act.” You giggle flirting with him back.
“The only thing he would have to worry about cleaning up is the kiss marks that are going to be on your neck.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you were this playful. I love seeing this side of you.”
The two of you finally exchange a short yet sweet kiss in the orange sunset peeking against the window. It was going to last longer until Angela and Chris crashed the party with a loud knock on the door.
“Hurry up Freddy and Daphne the Scooby gang has to pull up at the carnival together. You guys can finish eating each other's faces off in the car. We can’t miss the flight of fear!”
The two of you looked at each other shrugging and walked together hand in hand out the classroom. “Well, I guess we will have to finish this on the carousel.” “Indeed, that sounds more romantic than making out while being surrounded by jars of disinfected frogs in the science lab.”
The two of you catch up with the rest of the seniors of class 2021 as you look forward to your last summer as juniors together. Today was going to be the day where you go all out and live like you're gonna die young.
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queridopascal · 3 years
Text
The new job (Din Djarin x F!Reader)
Part 1 of the “Ad Astra” series
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Summary: as your eyes scanned the page, the words “spatial coordinates” and the phrase “writings and symbols no one has been able to decipher” made your eyes widen and your interest spike... (word count: 1.7k)
Warning: mention of food and drinks
A/N: my first ever Mando fic/series (even though we don't get to meet him in this first chapter)! Huge thanks to @hnt-escape for beta reading, and I hope you guys enjoy it ✨
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ❤️
NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST
Sitting alone in your home office with a mug of coffee in your hand, you shuffled through the heap of unopened mail you found upon your return from your last expedition: advertising brochures, leaflets, bills and, at the bottom of the stack, a cream-coloured paper envelope with slightly torn edges.
Prompted by curiosity, you put down the mug and opened the letter with an old knife you kept in the first drawer: it was typewritten, dated 25th of September and signed at the bottom by a certain Elizabeth Williams.
As your eyes scanned the page, the words “spatial coordinates” and the phrase “writings and symbols no one has been able to decipher” made your eyes widen and your interest spike. Your work as an archaeologist had given you the opportunity to travel the world, discover different types of artifacts and ruins, get closer to cultures and their ancient origins; but something inside of you, a feeling in your gut, was telling you that what was described in the letter was unique and, possibly, something you had never seen before.
Without giving it a second thought, you dialed the phone number scribbled underneath the signature and waited with bated breath as you began fidgeting with a pen, clicking it open with every beeping sound coming from the other side.
“Hello?” a calm tone greeted you.
“Mrs. Williams?” you asked, clearing your throat.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Hi, I’m-”
“I know who you are, I’ve been waiting for your call.” the woman said with a smile in her voice.
“Oh,” you gasped, “I... received your letter and I would love to hear more about this artifact you mention.”
“Great. I’ll have someone pick you up tomorrow morning at 9 sharp.”
“Thanks, Mrs Williams,” you nodded, “do I… have to bring anything?”
“Your knowledge will be sufficient, my dear.”
Once you both ended the call, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, feeling anxious and impatient for what was about to come and reliving the exact same sensations you had experienced the day of your very first excavation.
After a sleepless night, you were awakened by the furious pitter patter of heavy rain against the windows. The dark grey of the sky made every room of your house incredibly cold and humid, and you put on your favorite cardigan as you dragged your feet into the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast.
When you finished eating, you took a quick shower and got dressed in your favorite black pencil skirt and a white blouse, a matching blazer and a pair of heels completed the look. You took a seat on the couch in your living room and waited for the driver.
At 9AM there was a knock at your front door, and you immediately grabbed your blazer and your purse and walked over to it.
“Good morning, Miss,” the driver bowed his head a little and extended his gloved hand to you while opening a black umbrella with the other. “Please, follow me. Mrs. Williams and her colleagues are waiting for you.”
You put your hand in his as he walked you over to the sedan; he opened the car door and waited for you to get in, shutting it swiftly once you got comfortable in the cream leather back seat.
After a two hours drive, the car stopped in front of a wired mesh and barbed wire fence, lined with several “Military Zone” signs. A couple of seconds later, the guarded gates opened with a screech, letting the car enter what looked like a tunnel carved inside of a mountain.
The driver pulled up in front of a large white door with soldiers on either side, where an elderly woman waited with crossed arms.
“Goodmorning my dear,” the woman stepped towards you. “I’m Elizabeth. Welcome to the Falls Hill military installation.”
She hugged you tightly and you stiffened at first, looking at the two soldiers, whose eyes were fixed on a point in front of them.
“Come, I’ll show you around.”
One of the guards stepped to the side and held the door open for you and Mrs. Williams. The large corridor that extended in front of you reminded you of a war bunker: it was grey and cold, illuminated by pale neon lights, and it had the same distinctive smell you would find in the subway.
You followed her obediently, and when she reached the end of the corridor, she slowly opened a set of double doors bearing an "Authorized Personnel Only" sign; taking a step forward, your mouth dropped open in wonder as soon as you laid eyes on what looked like a giant stone ring covered with strange inscriptions.
“I've never seen anything like this,” you gulped, keeping your eyes fixed on the object.
Mrs. Williams chuckled, pleased at your reaction. “No one has, my dear.”
“Can I…?” you asked in a trembling voice as you pointed at the artifact.
Elizabeth nodded and you walked over to it, placing your hand on the rough surface of the stone to feel the engraved characters under your fingers.
“These inscriptions,” you started, turning to her, “might be hieratic or maybe cuneiform, I think I've seen some of those symbols before.”
“Perhaps you could help us with the interpretation?” she moved to stand beside you and tilted her head to the side, looking at you expectantly.
“Yeah, of course. I'll get to work right away.”
The hours passed quickly, and between one cup of coffee and another, it was already evening. The succession of symbols and characters engraved in the stone kept repeating in your mind, a mix of infinite combinations and interpretations, from the most logical to the least plausible.
Wrinkling your eyes for tiredness, you looked up from all your papers and notes, finding a new possible interpretation of the second row that made your heart race.
“Mrs. Williams, was anything else found in the proximity of this object?”
“I was hoping you'd ask me,” she smiled and motioned you to follow her.
Elizabeth led you through a hallway and stopped in front of another door, resting both hands on the opening handle.
“You are not to speak of this to anyone, understand?”
You simply nodded, your breath catching in your throat at her request.
“Mrs. Williams, I haven't issued any new authorization papers for this lady.” a baritone voice captured your attention, and you turned around only to find a soldier in uniform staring back at you.
“Colonel Shaw, it's nice to see you again,” Elizabeth greeted him with a gentle smile, but the man looked at her with a serious and impenetrable gaze.
“Mrs. Williams, I don't think I'll have to remind you that what's inside this room is classified.” he walked over to the both of you, his expression unfazed.
“She's the new addition to my team, Colonel,” she said, looking him straight into his icy blue eyes, “a world-renowned archaeologist who is going to help us decipher the inscriptions on the stone ring.”
“Exactly. Then why are you here?” he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Because,” you cleared your throat “the second row of inscriptions refers to another object, described as the portal.”
The Colonel raised an eyebrow at you and sighed, then looked at Elizabeth.
“Permission denied.”
“Excuse me, Colonel Shaw. I was told you would have given me carte blanche, especially since the government authorized this project,” she stepped towards him with her usual calm tone.
“Not for long,” he retorted, “you have one more week Mrs. Williams, the clock is ticking. And since she doesn't have any authorization at the moment, I won't grant her access into this room.”
“Then I guess I'll have to ask Captain Gallo,” she crossed her arms. “See, he was the one who helped us get started with this project and I'm sure he would authorize this young lady in a heartbeat.”
The Colonel exhaled angrily, his jaw was clenched in frustration and you smiled to yourself.
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth “You have my permission.”
6 days later
Staring at the portal, the inscripted characters on dark metal and stone looked so similar to something you had seen before, but also so different. You felt intimidated by that object, almost in awe, it was as if it gave off vibrations within the room, as if it wanted to give you clues to solve that riddle that had been keeping you and the rest of the team awake for days.
“Morning guys,” Elizabeth walked into the research lab with a box of donuts, “I brought something to eat.”
“Thanks,” you beamed at her as you took a glazed donut from the container. “I really needed something with sugar.”
“How is the research going?”
“Bad,” Linda, one of the members of the team, shook her head, “no matches whatsoever.”
“Is that so?” Elizabeth turned to you, her expression somber.
“Yeah,” you sighed, “even if the inscriptions look familiar to us, when comparing them to all the material we have available, we found no similarities. We’re missing something and tomorrow is the last day.”
“I’m gonna ask for a permit extension, I'm sure they'll grant it to me,” she stroked your back, comforting you.
“I found another reference!” Linda squealed with excitement “Shall we start with the comparison?”
“Absolutely,” you rushed to her side and took a seat on the corner of her desk, looking at the monitor of her computer.
The documents she had just found showed incredible similarities, and referred to an engraved metal fragment found a few months earlier in the Atacama Desert.
“These three symbols are exactly the same ones of the central row!” you exclaimed, not believing your eyes.
Linda nodded, then gulped, “They also say here that they found out some symbols represent a stylized version of constellations, and that this type of metal is not…”
“Terrestrial,” you added as you kept on reading the description under one of the pictures.
Mrs. Williams looked at the both of you with a proud smile, then she walked over to the other desk and dialed a number on the phone.
“Captain, we finally found a match for the inscriptions.”
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collecting-stories · 3 years
Text
Cardigan - Rafe Cameron
Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍 
TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist
_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._
The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.  
Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.  
It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.  
“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.  
“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?
You shook your head, “to the cut.”
“Why?”
“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.  
Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.
“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”
But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.  
Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.  
It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.  
-
In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.  
But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.  
“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.
“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.  
“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.  
You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.  
But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.  
“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.
“What for?”  
“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.  
“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”
You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.
“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”
-
It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.  
Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.  
Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.  
“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.  
“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.  
“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.  
“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”
“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.  
“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.  
It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.  
“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”
“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”  
“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.  
You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.  
“Are you coming up or what?” You called.  
“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.  
“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”  
“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.  
“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”
“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”
Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.  
“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”
“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”
-
It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.  
When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.  
But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.  
“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.  
“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”
“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.  
You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.  
You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.  
“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.  
“But you still made it.” You replied.  
“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”
“Obviously she meant more than we did.”  
Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.  
“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.  
“Not enough.”  
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kumkaniudaku · 3 years
Text
Understanding
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17
Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian
Word Count: 2,137 
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If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.
Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.
Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.
You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.
“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.
“I made it with time to spare.”
“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”
“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”
Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction
Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.
“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”
“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”
Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.
“Where’d you say you were from again?”
“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”
“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.
“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”
“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”
You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”
Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.
“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”
“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”
“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”
“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”
“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”
“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.
“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.
“You’re rather observant.”
You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”
“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.
“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”
You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.
“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”
“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”
“Did it help you?”
Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”
“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”
A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.
“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.
“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”
“You also needed some reassurance.”
“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”
Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.
Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.
“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”
“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”
“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”
Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”
“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”
“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.
“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”
Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.
As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”
“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”
“Where? Out in the woods?”
“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”
A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.
“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”
“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”
He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”
Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.
Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.
“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”
“Oh, really?”
Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”
“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”
“Right. That was today, huh?”
Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.
“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”
“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”
“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”
“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”
Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.
“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”
“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.
“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”
----
A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.
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Text
The Witch and The Wolf Pt.50
Word Count: 2,539
Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Deaton, Malia Tate, Peter Hale, Noah Stilinski, Jordan Parrish, Kate Argent, Berserkers, Reader
Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, nothing else that comes to mind ig
A/N: im done with this series and i still have like 10 parts left oof 
Masterlist       Series Masterlist
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Scott held onto Derek’s body, as you pulled into the parking lot of Deaton's office.
The group of you entered, laying Derek on the table as you looked at him nervously, holding his hand.
“We just found him like this,” Stiles started.
“Please tell me you know what’s going on,” you begged.
“I’m not sure I do. How did you find him?” Deaton asked.
“He was buried under an Aztec temple in Mexico, covered in Wolfsbane,” you sighed.
“Well, I think we’ll only learn more once he wakes up,” Deaton started.
“He’s shivering,” you pointed out.
“Then we’ll get him some blankets. Here is the safest place for him. The rest of you should go home and get some rest. It is a school night, after all,” Deaton said to Scott, Stiles, and Lydia.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine here?” Scott turned to you.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’ll stay here with (Y/N) and Deaton,” Lydia said, standing next to you.
“Yeah, no,” Stiles protested.
“Stiles, Scott, go home,” you said.
“Call me if anything happens?” Scott asked.
You nodded your head, before turning away. You could hear Stiles’ protests while Scott pulled him away, taking him home.
“What are you thinking about?” Lydia asked you.
“I don’t know. But nothing good can come of this,” you sighed, leaning on the table while you continued to look at Derek, stroking his hair softly.
Lydia rested her head on your shoulder, trying to comfort you as you wrapped your other arm around her.
“Thanks for staying with me,” you smiled softly.
“Well, what are friends for?” 
---
Lydia fell asleep on your shoulder, as the two of you sat on a small bench. You continued looking at Derek, letting your mind drift off.
The two of you walked in the woods, while Derek held his hand over your eyes.
“Surprise,” he removed his hands, revealing some string lights set up around the trees, with a tent in the middle. You gasped slightly, turning to him.
“What’s all this for?” you asked softly.
“I know that things are getting worse with the alpha pack and with Erica and Boyd missing,” he started, before stroking your cheek softly.
“I just wanted us to have a small night away from my loft. Maybe take your mind off things,” he explained.
You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Thank you for this,” you sniffled softly, burying your head into his chest.
“Things are gonna get better, (Y/N/N), you just have to believe it will,” Derek whispered.
You nodded softly, looking up at him.
“I love you, Hale,” you said.
“Love you too, (Y/N/N).”
You wiped away the tear from your eye. This could be reversible, possibly. Derek will wake up, and you needed to try and focus on that instead of the other possibility.
Deaton walked to Derek, as you sighed, sitting up before waking up Lydia.
“Come on,” you said.
You walked to Derek again, putting your hand on his forehead.
“Now he’s warmer,” you frowned.
“(Y/N), hold his hand… I’m gonna try something,” you held Derek’s hand, while Deaton took a scalpel, pressing it along Derek’s arm. It healed within seconds.
“That's… strange,” you said.
“What does it mean?” Lydia asked.
“I don’t know, but it can't be good. (Y/N), will you get me a 5-milliliter syringe? Top drawer,” Lydia followed you as the two of you walked to the cabinet.
You heard stirring behind you, as Derek sat up, hopping off the table. His eyes were blue, as he held his head in his hands.
“Derek?” you said softly.
He looked uncomfortable, groaning softly as backed away from the three of you.
You pulled Lydia behind you.
“Derek,” you said again.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” fangs began to come out of his mouth, while his claws grew. 
He didn't have control, you realized.
“Derek, just calm down and-” you started.
“No!” he pushed Deaton aside, while he collapsed on the floor while Derek ran away.
Damn it
You ran to Deaton, examining his wounds.
“He got you good,” you said.
“I’ll be fine,” he groaned, while he sat up.
“Lyds, call Scott and Stiles,” you helped Deaton stand up, while you grabbed some rubbing alcohol, pouring it on a cotton swab.
He bit his tongue, wincing softly as you bit your lip, slightly nervous.
---
“He’d probably go back to the Hale house,” you explained, finishing patching up Deaton's wound.
“You said he didn't recognize any of you?” Stiles asked.
“No, not even (Y/N),” Lydia replied.
“That just means his mind and body are younger. But why? All young Derek is good for is, well, losing control on full moons and not listening,” you shrugged.
“Losing control?” Scott asked.
“He had trouble with the full moon till he was about 16,” you explained.
“Okay, but why would he go to the Hale house? And worse, how’s he gonna react when he sees it burnt down?” Scott asked.
“Well, he won’t be happy for sure,” you started.
“I mean, how would it benefit anyone? Except for Kate of course. His eyes were blue, which means after Paige, which means…” your eyes widened.
“A time where he still trusted Kate. He doesn't know she caused the fire, he doesn't know anything she did,” you said.
“So then should we tell him?” Stiles asked.
“No. He won’t believe us. W-We just need to find him,” your phone began to ring, receiving a call from Parrish.
“Hey, nerd. What do you want?” you asked, answering the phone.
“First, rude. Second, you said to call you if anything about Derek Hale came up. Well, we found some kid and according to these prints, he’s Derek Hale. But the kid looks 15,” Parrish explained.
“I… I’m on my way, thanks for calling,” you hung up the call, motioning to Scott and Stiles before walking out with them.
---
You could hear Sheriff Stilinski’s frustration towards Scott and Stiles while you waited outside of his office, looking down at Derek.
“So, Derek,” you started.
“Who are you people?” he asked.
“It’s a long story but-”
“Where’s my family? Where are my friends?” he asked again.
“I know that you’re probably very confused, but you just need to trust us for a minute. You see that one in there?” you pointed at Scott, while Derek shook his head.
“He’s an alpha. He can help you, okay?” Derek nodded his head, before sitting quietly.
“Now I’m gonna go tell that deputy to take off your chains. Will you stay still?” you asked again, receiving another nod from him.
“Parrish,” you turned to face him.
“Can you take off his handcuffs?” you started.
“No, he can’t,” another deputy who you recognized interrupted.
You gave him a blank stare, before replying.
“Parrish, I didn't know there were two of you,” you sassed.
“The little bitch hurt me. He’ll probably try to run away,” Haugh responded
“Well, you tased him, like three times. Here are the keys,” Jordan walked to Derek, unlocking his handcuffs while you glared at Haigh.
The only person there you liked besides Sheriff Stilinski was Parrish, and you made it obvious.
After a few minutes, you and Derek walked into Sheriff Stilinski’s office, Scott and Stiles watching carefully.
While Scott talked to Derek, you talked with Stiles.
“Have you figured out what Kate wants with Derek?” Stiles asked.
“No, and, I never thought I’d have to say this, but I think we need to ask Peter for help,” Stiles looked slightly in shock before nodding his head.
“That girl said that you would be able to tell me what happened to my family and our friends,” you heard Derek as you turned your head to face him.
“Well, there was a fire…” you saw the light fade from Derek’s eyes as his face dropped while you clenched your jaw.
“But they’re all safe. They just had to leave Beacon Hills,” you knew that Derek wouldn't be able to tell you were lying, not at that age.
“E-Even (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and her mom?” he asked skeptically.
You felt chills going down your spine as he said your name.
“They’re all safe,” you nodded your head.
“When can I see them?” Derek asked.
“As soon as we get your memories back,” he stayed silent before nodding his head in agreement.
“Scott, come with me to see Peter. Stiles, take Derek to somewhere safe, like Scott’s house, okay?” you looked between the two of them, while Stiles protested.
“You’re sticking me with sourwolf?!” Stiles groaned.
“Don't get into any trouble, and yes. Scott’s the only one who’ll be able to stop me from killing Peter,” you sighed.
Before the two of you left the station, Sheriff Stilinski’s pulled you aside.
“This may not be the best time to talk about this, but, have you given any thought to the offer I gave you last month?” he asked.
Oh my god!
You completely forgot, your eyes going wide. He wanted you to come and work for him at the station, with proper training.
“Can I let you know by… uhh, next week?” you asked.
“Okay, but I need an answer kiddo,” he said.
You nodded your head before waving goodbye to him, leaving the station with Scott.
---
“His eyes are blue, Paige probably died recently, which means he trusts Kate,” you explained.
You, Scott, and Peter joined with Malia all stood in the loft.
“You said Kate was a werejaguar?” Peter asked while you nodded your head.
“Look…” Scott got a message from Lydia, showing you and Peter the phone.
It was a dead body, a man laying there with his throat ripped out, blood splattered everywhere.
“Lydia said Kate did it,” Scott said.
“She doesn't have control,” Peter pointed out.
“So she wants Derek to teach her?” you raised an eyebrow.
“No...she wants the triskelion,” Peter gasped.
“So, she’s headed to the vault,” you poked your head up.
“What vault?” Malia asked.
“It’s this place, it's filled with basically all the Hale’s secrets and whatnot,” you explained.
“So where is the vault?” Scott asked.
“It's by Beacon Hills High. We gotta go.”
---
You heard something walking behind you four as you turned your head, seeing nothing.
“I’m getting that feeling again…” Malia said.
“What feeling?” you asked.
“The one I got in Mexico. That thing,” Malia shook her head.
“So Kate brought them with her? They’re these guys o-or something, wearing animal skulls,” Scott explained.
“You mean Kate has Berserkers?” Peter groaned.
“Are you insane? Berserkers aren't real,” you scoffed.
“Then what the hell is that?” you turned to face what Malia was pointing at, as your jaw dropped, seeing the Berserker standing in front of you.
“It’s only one… we can take it,” you said.
“I’m pretty sure he has some friends…”
---
“Praefoco,” the Berserker froze in front of you, slowing down as your eyes glew purple, watching it fall to its knees.
Peter must’ve run off somewhere to avoid having to fight, while Scott was pinned against the wall by another Berserker, Kira on the floor.
“Inspiratione,” all five of the Berserkers fell to the ground, nearly unconscious as you heard Scott gasp, dropping to his feet while he leaned against the wall to take a breath.
You could feel pain running throughout your body, while you looked down at your arms, seeing thick dark veins running through them.
Not again
You winced, buying your lip as you scrunched your eyes, taking deep breaths. You heard the Berserker growl, standing up once again while it wrapped its hands around your neck, shoving you against the wall and taking you by surprise.
You gasped for air, trying to fight it before hearing a familiar roar behind the Berserker.
Derek pulled the Berserker away from you, kicking it to the floor. His blue eyes looked at you, noticing he was back to normal, and no longer 15.
You stumbled slightly, while he put his hand on your shoulder, helping you stand up.
“They’re gone!” you turned to Scott, hearing him yell.
You frowned slightly, looking around to see that all the Berserkers had gone.
Derek turned to you, mouth open before you wrapped your arms around him tightly. You shut your eyes tightly while he wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you back.
---
“Where do you think Kate went? With the Berserkers? They can't just disappear like that,” you asked, walking alongside Derek.
“Well, we haven't seen the last of her. She’ll pop back sooner or later,” he shrugged.
“Oh, your place is such a mess… I need to clean up all my stuff,” you were slightly nervous as the two of you walked into the loft.
“You’ve been staying here for the past two months?” Derek asked.
You nodded your head, giving him a small smile.
“I got your text, and then when I got here you were gone. Severo and a bunch of Araya’s men were just laying there,” you explained.
You could feel the tension in the air as the two of you stood across from each other.
“I can’t… thank you,” you gave him a small smile before you wrapped your arms around yourself.
This couldn't be more awkward 
“Hey, how come you didn't tell me the truth? About my family?”
“I didn't want to see you upset,”
The two of you stood in silence, looking into each other's eyes before you inhaled softly, turning away from him.
“I should go get my stuff,” you started.
“(Y/N), wait,” you bit your lip before turning to him.
“I-I… did you mean what you said?” he asked.
You frowned slightly, in confusion.
“At the… when the Oni got to you. Did you mean it when you said you love me?” you could feel your heart racing as you nodded softly, unable to say words.
“Is there a but?” 
You felt your eyes water slightly, before you wiped them, laughing softly before you nodded again.
“I love you. A-Always have and always will. But we always end up hurting each other, and getting mad at each other… I don't want to lose you… I don't want to hurt you again,” your voice wavered before you cleared your throat.
He stayed quiet, before looking down. Your eyes watered quicker before you let out a small breath.
“I’m gonna… I’ll come back later to get my things,” you walked past him, before he held your hand, pulling you back. 
He put his hands on both sides of your face, kissing you as you closed your eyes, sinking into the kiss. You put your hands around his neck, before looking up at him.
“You can never hurt me, (Y/N). You can never lose me. I love you, always have, and always will. Breaking up with you was one of the dumbest mistakes I’ve ever made. There is no one who’s made me happier than you. I love you,” you could see his eyes watering as you wiped his tears.
“I love you too,” your voice broke as you laughing slightly, pressing your forehead against his.
“Forever,” 
“No matter what.”
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slytherinbarnes · 3 years
Text
Seasons Change [3]
iii. the summer will warm the coldest parts of your heart 
pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
word count: 3.3k
warnings: smut, language. 
summary: a mission throws you and steve together, bringing a new sort of revelation to your relationship. 
a/n: okay, yes, I know this is late, but listen, I couldn’t find my laptop amongst all the moving boxes! good news is that I did find it though, so here is seasons change part 3 (my favorite part!), one day late!!! the taglist for this series is open!
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June 20, Rome, Italy. 
You walk out of the bathroom of your hotel room, your final belongings gathered in your arms. You dump them into your open suitcase, not bothering to organize them since you’re finally flying home again, before zipping the suitcase closed and plopping down beside it on the bed. You stare out the window of your room, admiring the Sydney skyline outside, though you’re glad to trade it for a familiar skyline in just a few short hours. 
As you stand to grab your suitcase, your phone rings, and your stomach drops with dread, already aware that this phone call is not going to be one that you like. You grab your phone from your pocket, eyes scanning the familiar number on the screen before you answer with a sigh, “Hill, this better not one of those calls.”
“It’s just recon!” You sigh again, and you can practically hear her cringe though the phone, “I know you haven't been home in months, but you’re our best agent. And you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.”
“Who gave the orders?”
“Fury.”
Not optional then. You nod once, even though she can’t see it. “Where?”
“Rome.”
Your brows lift slightly, “Italy?”
“You know any other Romes?”
You deadpan, “Yeah. Georgia, Alabama, Illinois.”
Hill lets out a short laugh, “Okay, okay, I get it, smartass. Yes, Rome, Italy.”
“Just recon, huh?”
“Just recon.”
You sigh, knowing you can’t say no if it’s from Fury. “Alright, send over the file.”
“Already done.” You can hear the smile in her voice when she adds, “Oh, and you’ll have a partner on this one.”
You groan, “You know I do better solo.”
“You’ll like this one!”
“You said that about the last one.”
“Who, Franklin?”
You hum in acknowledgement, “He talked too much. And he ate way too much garlic for someone sharing a tiny room above a church.”
Hill laughs again before she mutters, “Well, I mean it this time.”
“Who is it?”
“Can’t say. Classified.” You let out a sound of frustration, and you can hear the amusement in her voice when she reassures you. “You’ll meet him in the safe house.”
“Fine.”
“Don’t forget that you’re my favorite agent!”
“Yeah, yeah. Talk to you soon.”
-
Shield sends a Quinjet to fly you to Rome, which you suppose is the closest thing you’ll get to an apology for not getting to go home. Still, it’s better than flying commercial, so you accept the gesture, and your flight passes uneventfully, which you’re grateful for.
The safe house is close to your landing spot, so you decide to walk, thinking the fresh air will be good for you. Unfortunately, you underestimated just how hot it would be beneath the Italian sun, and by the time you arrive at the safe house, you’re sticky with sweat. You walk inside, the apartment pretty small as far as safehouses go, but you’re used to sharing close quarters with other agents, so you aren’t worried about it. You drop your bag on the floor in the living room, heading towards the kitchen and calling out as you move. “Hello? Anyone here?”
As you step into the kitchen, you find it empty, save for a note on the table, along with a small brown paper bag. There’s a delicious smell wafting towards you from the bag, buttery and warm and full of cinnamon, and when you pull it open, you see a fat cinnamon roll staring back at you. You get an idea of who your partner is before you even read the note left beside the bag.
 Went to grab a few things, be back in a bit.
-S
 You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “God damn it, Hill.” 
You knew you’d regret telling her about your arrangement with Steve, but she was suspicious after he called her in Japan, and she pretty much pieced it together on her own. All you did was confirm the details for her. Still, it felt nice to talk about it with someone. Not as agents, but as friends. You work so often that you don't have a lot of opportunities to get close to anyone, and besides Steve, Hill is the closest thing you have to a friend. 
You shake your head, sure that she’s laughing her ass off at HQ, before you settle into one of the chairs at the table, pulling the bag with the cinnamon roll towards you. You pull a copy of the file out of your bag, given to you by the pilot in the Quinjet, reading through it again as you eat the cinnamon roll left to you by Steve. And that’s where he finds you later, sitting at the table and popping the last bite into your mouth, and he says from the doorway, “Where does it rank on your list?”
You look up in surprise, so engrossed in the file that you didn't hear him come in, and he smiles as he walks into the room and sets two bags of groceries on the table. “So?”
You shake your head at him, not understanding. “So, what?”
“The cinnamon roll, where does it rank?”
You smile and wipe your hands clean, looking down at the crumbs scattered on the table. “Oh. Definitely not as good as my mom’s, but it’s one of the better ones I’ve had, so maybe a 7?”
Steve’s brows lift and a playful smirk settles itself on his face. “A 7? It’s at least a 9.”
“There’s isn't enough icing for it to be a 9.”
He smiles and nods, taking note of the criticism. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He starts to put the groceries away, and you stand to help him. “So you’ve read the file?”
“Simple surveillance, in and out in a few days. Intel says Alexandrei Ivanov has been scoping out tourist traps to test Hydra weapons at.”
You nod, both of you on the same page, before you ask, “So how are we gonna play this?”
Steve grabs a different file, turning to hand it to you as he grabs the last few groceries. “Newlyweds Victoria and Logan Jones. Honeymooners happily in love, hitting up all the best tourist spots and snapping plenty of pictures for their family back home.”
You feel your cheeks heat up a little as you scan the file, realizing that you’re gonna have to pretend to be married to Steve for the next few days. And everyone knows that you have to stay in your cover at all times, because you never know who’s watching. This should be fun. You take a deep breath and look up at him with a smile, feigning a confidence you don’t quite feel. “So, when do we start?”
-
It turns out that you’re starting right away. 
You freshen up from your flight and change clothes into the ones Steve brought for you, a bright yellow sundress; both of you looking incredibly average when you reveal your outfits to each other. Preparing to be tourists, you both don sunhats and grab a camera, and with your cover in place, you head to the Coliseum hand in hand, playing the part of a couple in love. 
It doesn't take long for you and Steve to spot Ivanov, as most of the Hydra operatives tend to stand out in a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand when he spots him first, and he turns to you and sweeps you in for a kiss, whispering softly against your lips, “Ivanov at your 3 o’clock.”
You feel your skin heat up with his touch, and you tell yourself that it’s the Italian sun, because you’re an operative and this is just work. But Steve seems to notice the effect he’s already having on you, because he smirks, and you repress an eye roll as you turn away and look around for Ivanov. When you spot him, you turn to your fake husband and exclaim, “Let me get your picture, love!”
You see his cheeks tinge pink, and now it’s your turn to smile, the nickname clearly something he enjoys. He passes you the camera and stands in line with Ivanov, and you point the camera at Steve, pretending to snap pictures of him, when in reality you’re capturing Ivanov in the background. Once you get the shot, you smile at Steve, waving him back over. “Oh my god babe, you look great! Come see!”
Steve walks over and checks the pictures, smiling his approval at you. “Wow, you really captured my good side!”
You lean into your cheesy role, beaming up at him. “Every side is your good side!”
“Baby, c’mere.” He pulls you in for another kiss, this one more passionate than the last, his tongue instantly slipping into your mouth. You have to work hard to remind yourself that you’re in public and this is a job, so you need to keep your composure. Every move the two of you make needs to be calculated, it needs to serve a purpose. 
Steve’s mouth moves over your jaw and down to your neck, his mouth pressing kisses and love bites into the skin there. You automatically tip your head to the side, giving him better access, and you hear him whisper against your throat, “Think you can get his phone?”
He lightly nips the side of your neck, and despite yourself you let out a soft moan, unable to hold it back. You feel Steve smile against your neck, and you clench your fists hard, pressing your nails into your palms, trying to calm yourself down again. You nudge Steve back up to your mouth and pull him close, running your tongue over his bottom lip, sinfully slow. You hear Steve’s breath hitch in his throat and you smile before whispering, “Phones are my specialty.”
You pull away from him, stepping back and smiling at his expression, Steve clearly getting into this just as much as you are. You’re slightly relieved that you aren’t the only one affected by his presence or his mouth on yours. You’ve seen each other a few times since Japan, quick flings on your way to other cities and missions, but each tryst never feels like enough. You feel yourself wanting to spend more and more time with Steve. Not just for the sex though. The sex is great, but you’re starting to enjoy just being with Steve. 
You try not to think about it too much, focusing instead on your arrangement. No strings attached, just hook ups. No feelings, no relationship. That’s it. 
You shake your head to clear your thoughts, returning to the present and your need to lift the phone off Ivanov. You carefully evaluate him; where’s he’s standing, where his phone is most likely to be on his body, what’s the best way to get it off him. And as you watch him standing near the railing, a thick crowd of tourists moving past him, you decide that the best method is to slip it from his back pocket as you move past him with the crowd. 
You blend in with the families and couples moving through the attraction, and when you get close enough to him, you deftly slide the phone from his back pocket, quickly switching it to your other hand, held out of sight. You wander over to an area with brochures and pamphlets, grabbing a few and using them to further hide the phone, before making your way back to Steve, the phone hidden in your hand. When you reach him, you give him a smile, passing the brochures and the phone to him. “Look at all these places we need to visit here! So many exciting things to see!”
Steve beams at you when he feels the weight of the phone, and he quickly slides an SD card into the phone, transferring whatever he can as he chatters away about what cafes look best and what attractions you absolutely need to see before your honeymoon is over. When the transfer process finishes, he pulls you close and whispers, “Now how do you get it back?”
“Bumping into him is best, he’s less likely to feel it sliding into his pocket that way.”
Steve smiles at you, “I have the perfect idea then.”
Your brows furrow together, wondering what he has in mind as he pulls you towards Ivanov, talking excitedly the whole way. When the two of you get close, he holds up the camera. “This looks like a good spot, babe! Let’s take a few selfies here.”
“Good idea, love.”
His eyes cut to yours, and you confirm the nickname is one he really likes as he lifts the camera and pulls you close. He snaps a few of the two of you smiling before he leans in and kisses your cheek, snapping a few more. Finally, his lips find yours, and you hear the camera snap a few more times before his arm lowers and his kiss grows more passionate. His tongue slips into your mouth again, and you feel one of his hands slide down to your ass, the phone hidden beneath his hand, pressed against your butt. 
You feel a spark of arousal as he shifts you backwards, his mouth moving to kiss your neck as he bumps into Ivanov, quickly sliding the phone back into his back pocket. Steve’s hand quickly returns to your ass, squeezing lightly as Ivanov turns to look at the two of you with disgust. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Sorry man, it’s just hard to keep my hands off her.”
Another squeeze to prove his point, and you close your eyes, steadying yourself as Ivanov retorts, “Maybe you should take her home and fuck her then.”
“Maybe I should.”
You look up and find Steve’s eyes, and the look in them is enough for you to know that he means it. You both mumble another apology to your target before Steve takes your hand and leads you through the crowd, the two of you heading back to the apartment you’re sharing. But it’s like the walk cools Steve off or something, because when you arrive back at the building, he drops your hand and steps inside, awkwardly rubbing his neck as you lock the door behind you. “Good grab back there.”
“Yeah, you too.” You shake your head, your mind too focused on his hands on you, before you amend, “I mean, thanks.”
He holds up the SD card and the camera, “I should get these sent over to Fury.”
“Uh, yeah. Of course.” You glance towards the bedroom door, thinking there’s only one thing that’s gonna cool you down at this point. “I’m gonna shower, try to wash off this sweat.”
“Enjoy it.”
You swear you can see Steve physically cringe at his response to you, and you nod once, grabbing your bag as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You move straight to the bathroom, switching the water to cool, hoping you can shock your arousal out of your system. You strip quickly and step under the cool stream, the water shocking the heat that seems to linger on your skin. Goosebumps lift on your skin, chasing away all thoughts of Steve, and when you feel calmed down enough, you switch the water warmer, intending to wash up before you get out. 
You wash your hair and body quickly, wondering if you can claim jetlag and pretend to go to sleep early to avoid any more awkward interactions with Steve. But as you stand beneath the warm water, letting it wash over you and relax you, you hear the bathroom door swing open. Confused, you turn to see who it is, surprised to see Steve striding towards you and pulling the shower door open. “Steve, what are you-”
The rest of the questions dies on your lips as he pulls you towards him, crashing his lips onto yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you moan into his touch, hoping he won’t pull away from you this time. You tug him closer and he steps into the shower fully clothed, moving beneath the stream of warm water with you. His hands start to roam over your body, and your lips move together frantically. 
You reach up and unbutton his wet shirt, pushing it off his body and onto the shower floor with a wet sound before your hands find his pants and belt, undoing them too and pushing the fabric down to join his shirt. His boxers are the last to go, and as you nudge them down his legs and grab him, his hand slips between your legs, expertly moving against you. The two of you stand pushed together, water running over you as you bring each other to the edge, ridding yourself of the tension that’s been building all day between you. 
Steve is the first to pull away, muttering “bedroom” against your lips. You nod and reach behind you blindly to switch the water off before allowing him to lead you into the bedroom, both of you dripping water across the floor. He leads you to the bed, still wet, and you lean back into the sheets, too aroused to care. Steve follows, and he’s inside of you in seconds, both of you moaning as you climb towards your highs together. It doesn't take either of you long to reach the top, and stars explode across your vision as you tip over the edge, Steve’s name coming out of your mouth as you finish.
-
You fall asleep almost as soon as Steve rolls off of you, exhausted from traveling and spying and being with Steve. You wake a few hours later, when the moon is high in the sky, and you roll over to face Steve, only to find that he isn’t there. Curious, you slide out from beneath the sheets that Steve tucked you into, and you pull on your discarded sundress from earlier before wandering out into the living room. 
There you find Steve, sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. You smile when you see him, wondering why he’s out here, until you see the sketchbook in his hand. You move closer to him, grabbing the book to close it and set it aside, and as you do, you spot the drawing half finished on the page. 
It’s of you, fast asleep, sprawled out on the sheets, a soft smile on your face. You flip to the page before it and find another picture; you in Japan, eating across from Steve, and the one before that is you at the holiday party a few months ago. You look at Steve in surprise, still sleeping, unaware of what you’ve seen, and you smile as you close the book and set it on the table beside him. 
You hear your phone ring in the other room, and you head back to the bedroom, scooping it from your suitcase and answering without looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Good job in Rome. We’re running the data from the phone and already getting hits on other locations, which means we need you somewhere else.”
You wander to the doorway between the bedroom and the living room, looking out at Steve as he sleeps on the couch, and when you do, you suddenly become aware of the intimacy of all of this. The playing pretend, the cinnamon roll, the notes, the sketches, it’s a breach of your arrangement. No strings attached, no feelings. You shake your head at yourself, wondering if you’ve managed to ruin a good thing, and at the same time, Hill’s voice comes through the phone, soft and concerned. “Agent, are you there?”
“Yeah, sorry.” You look at Steve one last time before turning and heading to your suitcase, already starting to pack up. “Where do you need me?”
-
This time when Steve wakes up and looks beside him, there is no note. 
-
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Text
Not Alone: Chapter Eleven
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-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P new character unlocked
-> Word Count: 2.1k
-> Warnings: none(?)
-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz
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The sun set as they reached the top of a hill she never climbed. It was in the opposite mountain range from where she had been and she was nervous of it. She didn’t know what lied on the other side. Her feet hurt and she was tired.
He layed a bunch of bows on the ground and gave Y/n a very appealing look. It made her stomach hurt.
She walked to where he had chosen to sleep and smiled at it. There were branches on the ground which made a mat for sleeping. He had chosen a huge tree with great bows to protect them in case it rained. He was like her father, more than she expected him to be. Not that she ever expected to meet him.
“They think you’re dead.”
He put the last bow down and sat on it. He took the jacket he had brought with him and put it down, patting it for Y/n to sit beside him. Her steps hurt her feet now that they had stopped walking. She dropped onto the ground beside him and watched his eyes sparkle as darkness took over the night sky. She tucked her bow and quiver next to her, always close.
“I was taken to the work farms. We were hiding in this old house like your farmhouse. I wasn’t smart like you though. I never thought about bunkers or having a few different houses and traveling between them. I was an idiot. Anyway they came. I hid Mina and Kirishima and let them take me.”
His face was stoic. She wanted him to kiss her again. She started to wonder if he was going to.
“How did you get away from the farms?”
“I met some people while I was there. Doctors who were forced to work the breeder camps and other scientists. They convinced me I needed to start a revolution from the outside. I escaped with some of him.” He shook his head, as if his thoughts entertained him and brushed his hand through his hair again. He looked at Y/n and smiled, “You know a good spot to clean up around here?”
She shook her head, “Never been here before. You’re starting a revolution?”
He nodded, “The camp we were just at is one of our peace camps. It’s like a retreat. The children and young and old stay there. We have people coming and going constantly. Didn’t you notice how easily you were welcomed?”
“I guess. I just thought that’s what people were like when they live in a camp like that. Aside from the machine gun escort that is.”
He laughed again. She liked the sound of it but it reminded her of Kirishima.
“Well that was a big wolf Y/n. How’d you end up with him?”
“His mother gave birth and must’ve gotten sick shortly after. Hades was waiting for me at the door of the cabin one day. He was tiny then. I could hear his brothers and sisters in the woods. I found the mother dead and half eaten surrounded by the other cubs who were weak and sick. It was awful. I shot them and burned them. It’s the closest the infection ever got to my cabin. He was immune anyway so that’s helpful.”
“He’s immune? Naturally? Maybe he never ate any of the mom.”
Y/n shook her head, “Nah, she wasn’t the only sick thing Hades has eaten. He likes the infected.”
He grimaced, “That’s disgusting. Disgusting and lucky all at the same time.”
“It is.”
“What do you know about the start of the infection?”
Y/n shrugged, “People got sick and some died but others lived and went a little crazy.”
His eyes looked dark as his expression lost its humor and the sun set completely. “No Y/n, people didn’t just get sick. The infection was spread on purpose. Everything that’s happened has been a plan all along.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I wish it weren’t. There was something called the United Nations. They did all of this.”
Y/n felt sick, “They were evil?”
“Not evil, just detached. The world was running out of resources and everyone was constantly putting a hand out to them and asking for aid and food and money. The UN had been warning us forever about global warming and the ice melting and the ocean becoming acidic. Anyway in 2012 all of Greenland's ice and snow melted in a week. The earth started to enter a drought. We thought it was a cyclical event but it wasn’t. It was man made. We had pushed it too far. The same time all this was happening, a conference was held in Rio about the environment. Canada, the US and China pretty much pulled out and admitted they had no intention of slowing their pollution to the recommended level. It would be too hard on their economies. That was the final straw. Apparently the UN had a backup plan for a worst-case scenario such as that. They had a plague. It had a vaccine, which made it easy to spread and then control. The problem was it mutated. They spread the virus at the same time they had bombs placed deep in the ocean along the Japanese coastline. They bombed the shelf and pretty much wiped Japan off the face of the earth and made the west coast of North America a target for huge tidal waves.”
It felt like a movie to Y/n. It didn’t feel real. It felt like the ramblings of her father, before.
“How could you know all this?”
“The work farms. I met people who had been part of the initial plan. The plan was to reset everything. Instead the UN decided they wanted to start humanity over but set it up to succeed this time. The breeder farms were built where only the fit and healthy were allowed to reproduce."
She shivered just imagining it.
Bakugo laughed, “It isn’t what you think. I know what everyone thinks happens but it’s not. The girls only breed every three years and only up to three times. The pregnancy isn’t the result of rape, it’s done using science. The baby is made in a lab and then inserted into the woman’s womb.” Y/n gagged and Bakugo laughed. “The religious had the same reaction. The UN never mentioned this plan to anyone but the very high ups. It never went well.”
“The girls are still taken against their will and made to make babies against their will.”
She saw his head nod in the dark, “Yup and the babies are not God’s children to the Christians. Anyway the UN runs the military but again, they sit in their closed office and plan using numbers and facts and data. They don’t leave it to see what the world looks like or how corrupt the military is. They’ve built six cities world wide from the ashes and rubble of previous cities. They plan on cleaning every inch of the world.
Y/n’s head was spinning, “What about the borderlands?”
“They can’t use anymore bombs without affecting the weather and pollution again, so the plan stands at leaving us to our own devices until they have this part of the world cleaned up. Then they’ll come round us up.”
“Why?”
“They want the diseases and illnesses bred out. They won’t allow those people to live and breed.”
“Oh my god it’s like a nightmare.”
“It is. On that note, we need sleep. You sleep first and I’ll keep watch.”
“That’s some bedtime story.” She liked Kirishima’s better. He laughed and Y/n watched his silhouette in the dark for a moment. He didn’t lean in to kiss her. He was watching the hill they climbed. “How long have they been breeding science babies?”
His outline turned to her and she saw the shine of his eyes in the dark,”A long time.”
“Are the babies different than the rest of us?”
“Yeah.”
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The broken branches led them to a camp in a valley on the opposite side of the mountain where her farmhouse sat. The size of the camp was disturbing. Bakugo smiled as he saw it and walked directly up to the man holding the gun amid the trees.
“Halt.”
“Oi dunce face!” Bakugo shouted.
The gunman smiled, “No shit, Bakugo you’re alive. I heard they caught you.”
Bakugo laughed, “They think they did. Is Monoma still in charge?”
The man Bakugo called dunce face pointed to the camp, “He’s still in the smallest tent, you know what he’s like. Still paranoid they’ll bomb us.”
Bakugo laughed and pointed towards Y/n, “This is my friend Y/n.” She felt hurt when he called her his friend. She didn’t know why but the word stung.
“I’m Denki,” He put a hand out and Y/n noticed he had a nice smile. She met his golden eyes and smiled back, “Nice to meet you.” His eyes flickered to Bakugo and an even bigger smile crossed his lips, “So where’d ya two meet?”
She looked at Bakugo.
“She walked up to the mountain retreat the other day with a huge wolf for a pet and an unruly teenager.”
Denki’s eyes grew wide, “You have a wolf?”
She nodded. She wanted to find Mina and Kirishima. She didn’t understand why Bakugo wasn’t busting inside to see them. She felt herself fidget in place,
“Well I’m gonna go see Monoma and see what’s new on this side of the hill.”
They walked toward the camp as the sound of birds squawking filled the forest. The gunmen lower their weapons as they hear the sound and they walk past them. The camp opened as the forest spread thin. It looked like the camp they were at before except that everyone was wearing a firearm or knife. At one point Y/n swore she saw a sword. There were no children here.
“Bakguo! You’re alive!”
A girl with long blonde hair and cut off shorts ran and jumped into his arms. Y/n’s heart stopped as she watched the girl kiss his lips. The lips that only just kissed Y/n the day before. She felt heat radiating from her cheeks. She heard about men who weren’t tied down in romance novels and felt sick thinking that she had fallen for one. All the years of reading the novels and judging the ladies who seemed strong and smart and then fell for a jerk. Reality hurts. She wanted Kirishima and Mina and her cabin and Hades and Jirou. She wanted to let the world kill itself and hide up in the mountains. She never wanted to kiss Bakugo again. She couldn’t believe she was so reckless.
“Camie what the hell. You know me better than that,” He twirled her around and looked sheepishly at Y/n, “This is Y/n.” Y.n nodded and gripped her bow.
Camie beamed at her, “Wow nice find Bakugo, He save you from the farms too?”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a hero.”
Camie looked at Bakugo, who was staring at Y/n. Y/n walked past him and started to look around. If he didn’t want to find his friends then that’s his problem. Y/n would be damned if she would let them live another moment without the knowledge that their asshole of a friend was alive and well.
“You pissed at me?” Y/n didn’t turn and continued along, eyes desperately searching the crowds of people.
“Bakugo.” He shook hands with a very tanned man with the whitest smile Y/n had ever seen. People continued to greet him, but she couldn’t hear them anymore. She saw what she was looking for. She saw a tall guy limping with shaggy red hair. She broke into a run and dived into his arms when she was close enough to him.
As she made contact he turned. His face was exactly as she remembered it. He had her in his arms before she could speak a word.
“Y/n oh my god. Y/n it’s you. Holy shit I thought they got you.” He was planting kisses everywhere across her face.
“Where’s Mina?”
Kirishima’s kisses stopped but his grip on her face was still strong, “They took her.” Y/n felt her heart drop and wanted to collapse into his arms and sub.
“Shitty hair.”
Kirishima dropped to his knees in front of Y/n. His hands left her face and fell onto the tops of his knees.
“Bakugo? Bakugo is that you?”
Bakugo rushed at him and lifted him up. He pulled him into his embrace. The friend’s hug was fierce but all she heard was the sentence ‘they took her’ repeating in her mind.
Kirishima looked back at her, “You found him?”
Y/n shook his head, she had no words. They hug and cry and laugh but she was stunned. Finally able to speak, she muttered, “Where’d they take her?”
Their reunion no longer meant anything to Y/n.
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