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dragon-kazansky · 2 months

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Nine - Late night scandals

♡♡♡

"What do you think Bridgerton?"

Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.

"This one more to your liking?"

"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.

"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."

"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.

"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.

Henry points to the next one.

"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.

Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"

"My..."

"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"

"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"

"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"

Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"

Mr Granville leaves.

Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.

He sighs and closes the sketchbook.

♡♡♡

As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.

You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.

Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.

"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.

"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.

"He certainly was."

"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.

That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.

"You too?"

You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.

"Anthony invited me," you admit.

Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.

"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.

"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.

"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."

Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.

You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.

Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.

"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.

"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.

She stops playing. "So soon?"

"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.

"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."

You look at Daphne quietly.

"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.

"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."

"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.

"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.

Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.

♡♡♡

When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.

Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.

The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.

You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.

The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.

"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.

"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."

"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.

Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.

There is nothing you could ever say to her.

You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.

"May I have this dance?"

You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.

"You may."

You go with him to dance.

It seemed Benedict wasn't here.

♡♡♡

Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.

He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.

"Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.

"Come in, come in."

Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.

"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.

"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."

Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.

"What do you think?" Henry asks.

Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.

"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."

"I shall take that a compliment."

They both chuckle.

"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.

"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."

They both chuckle again.

"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.

Benedict picks an easel and sits down.

♡♡♡

As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.

You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.

You continue dancing with your partner.

Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.

When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.

"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.

He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.

"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.

Violet downs a third glass of champagne.

"She is persistent," you say.

"Hm?"

"Your mother."

Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."

"The opera singer..."

He looks at you.

"Nevermind. Its not my business."

Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."

"Yes. I assumed as much."

Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.

You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.

"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.

"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed his absence."

"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.

You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."

Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."

As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.

At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.

As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.

You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.

The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.

Anthony bows, and you curtsy.

"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.

You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.

The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.

When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.

He heads outside. You follow.

"Anthony?"

He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."

"What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.

"Who?"

"The duke."

"He is here?"

"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.

You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.

What you find is not what you ever expected to see.

Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.

Anthony runs at Simon.

"Bastard!"

Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.

"Daphne..."

She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.

"You will marry her," Anthony declares.

"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"

Anthony is angry.

"Brother!"

"I cannot marry her," Simon says.

"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."

"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.

Daphne looks hurt.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."

"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.

"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."

"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."

"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"

You look at Simon quietly.

"I am truly sorry."

"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.

You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.

Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.

You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.

Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.

Anthony and Daphne leave.

Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.

Neither do you.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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cemeterything · 1 year

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whenever i find myself struggling to understand the importance of creating art with love and for yourself, i remind myself of purple cat. purple cat was a little handmade clay cat figurine i made when i was about 7 years old. and it was an absolute fucking disaster of a thing. its ears were wonky and misshapen, its body was an unflattering chunky cylinder, its feet were stubs that chipped off one by one, and its tail and eyes were a nasty puke green color that didn't go with its violently violet body at all. it was also half charred black from being baked in the oven for too long. it looked hideously pathetic and sad. it was a total failure, the ugliest thing i had ever made, and anyone else who saw it would have assumed it was trash and thrown it away without a second thought. but i absolutely loved it. as a kid i played with it constantly; it was one of my favorite toys, and even after i outgrew that i couldn't bring myself to throw it away. i would have run into a burning building to rescue it if it was inside. i kept it and displayed it proudly until it was accidentally shattered while cleaning my room, and even then i had to be persuaded to throw it out, and i was heartbroken that i couldn't salvage it. it meant nothing to anyone except me, but that didn't matter to me at all. and that's the kind of attitude you should approach all your creative endeavours with, in my opinion. yes, it's important to constantly strive to improve your art, and of course it's always nice to get compliments from other people affirming that you did well, but ultimately none of that means a thing if you don't love your art, and if you didn't create it with yourself in mind as much as anyone else. by all means aim high and be constructively critical of your work, make a career out of it if that's what makes you happy. but allow yourself to make some purple cats too.

#🐉#this isnt prompted by anything i was just thinking about some of my childhood art projects #and how happy creating for the sake of creating made me back then

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findafight · 4 months

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For the STWG daily drabble prompt “accidental confessions” (I wrote this half in bed last night, half in bed this morning. Forgive some mistakes thanks) took it in a different direction.

It takes a full day for Steve to be released from hospital after they’ve confirmed he had broken ribs and a concussion amongst his other more minor injuries. Claudia is incredibly greatful she had the foresight to offer being the poor boys secondary emergency contact in the spring, seeing as Dustin had complained that Steve’s parents took a week to sign him out in November.

She got the call and was able to pick Dustin up and follow the ambulance to the hospital (Steve’s nervous friend had ridden with him, needing attention herself but refusing to let go of his hand). The smell of the smoke from the embers of Starcourt is something she doesn’t think she’ll forget, the stink sticking to Dustin’s hair and clothes. She’s sure it was the same for Steve.

He was under observation (and they did assist him in bathing, thank goodness) before being able to check himself out. She had swooped in and bundled him into her car as his friend’s parents ushered her away with the promise that the two could call, but needed to be home with family for a while to heal.

No one mentions that Claudia Henderson is not related to the Harringtons. If they had, she thinks she would have lost whatever composure she has been clinging to since she saw the sky burning red above the former mall and pulled up to be told her two boys had been caught in the chaos. Steve had been with Dustin when the Hargrove boy had threatened Lucas and protected them, had been coming around for dinner or to drive Dustin around, or to help him style his hair or countless other little things or no reason whatsoever. He has slotted into their lives easily, fitting into a place that neither Claudia nor Dustin realized they needed. He is her son in any way that mattered, and she needed him home. With her.

Finally pulled into the driveway, she opens the passenger door and holds her arms out, letting Steve grip her shoulders and securing a hand in his armpit. She hauls him out and supports him as he stumbles through the entryway.

“This way, sweetheart. You’re in the guest bedroom. Dusty helped air it out for you earlier, so everything’s fresh.” She says, nudging him towards the room. He nods and goes where she guides.

She helps him change into a matching pyjama set she had tucked away for him, as sometimes Dustin had horrible nightmares and could only be calmed by seeing Steve, awake and no longer visibly harmed, and he ended up sleeping on the chesterfield or Dustin’s floor. They were soft, and buttoned down the front, so everything was comfortable and he didn’t over exert or hurt himself trying to get the top over his head.

“I can do the pants myself, mrs. H.”

She smiles. “Of course. I’ll turn around and you let me know when you’re ready so I can help you get settled.”

“‘Kay.” There’s more shuffling than she would like, and more groans, but Steve gives her a “ready” before she gets too worried. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, loose pants the hospital provided kicked into the corner, looking a bit lost. His eyes are drooping, eyebrows slightly creased, and his mouth gapes a little, like he’s trying to figure out if he should speak.

Gently, she tugs the quilt out from under him, helping him lay back and tuck his feet under the sheets. She pulls everything up to his chin and kisses his forehead.

He hums contentedly and she brushes his hair further out of the way.

“Would you like me to turn the lights out?”

Steve slowly blinks his eyes at her, fingers curling around the edge of the quilt. His answer is a soft “yes please” followed by, “don’t leave?”

It’s so small, so desperate and resigned, it breaks Claudia’s heart all over again. She steps away from the bed, flicks the switch and turns right back around to sit on the edge of the bed. She’ll get a glass of water for him later, but now she just runs her hand through his hair, petting him soothingly.

He sighs, his body losing some of the tension he’s been holding, and his eyes droop. Humming, he burrows dirtying into the blankets but whines when she moves her hand away. She returns to petting. “There, there, honey. You’ll feel better after you sleep more, alright. And you don’t need to worry about anything. I’m right here.”

He nods just slightly, smacking his lips together and pressing his forehead into her palm. “Mmm. That’s good. I wish you were my mom.”

The admission is followed by another sigh and Steve losing the battle to keep his eyes open. It strikes Claudia through the heart, all this time seeing Steve as her own, trying to make sure he doesn’t feel smothered by her need to…well. Smother. And she had rarely considered that Steve would admit to wanting or needing the kind of support and warmth she was restraining (very badly) from throwing at him.

He probably only said it because of the concussion and the various pain or antibiotic drugs the hospital had given him, but it must have been true. He has asked her to stay, and whines when she moved her hand away. Over the past months he’d gotten more and more comfortable in their house and told her more about his frequently absent and disappointed parents. Steve needed support, and steady and reliable presence he trusted. And he saw that in Claudia.

If Steve wishes she were his mother, then his mother she’ll be. She’s been that for him probably since that first night they officially met in November, a beat up boy clutching her son’s shoulder in the Byers house and assuring her he didn’t let the kids get hurt, regardless of his status of also being a kid.

She leans down and kisses his forehead again, and says “well, that’s good, because you are my son.” Even if he can’t hear it. If he wants, she’ll say it everyday until he believes it. For now, she let’s him sleep as she pets his hair gently.

#steve harrington #claudia henderson #stranger things #Steve and Claudia #st3 #he’s her boy okay.#finda writes stuff #stranger things fanfiction #fics #stwgdailyprompt

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pink-apollo · 9 months

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Hello!

I don’t remember if I did send you a request before, but i did think of something cute and funny.

Can have some Headcannons on Price, Ghost and Alejandro where they walk into their s/o’s office and found them slumped over on their desk dead asleep?

Hope you’re doing well.

I have come so close to doing this myself at work many times. I swear being a waitress is a lot of work😅

Overworked s/o who is asleep at their desk Headcanons

Alejandro

✨WORRIED. The definition of a worrier once he sees that your head is resting on your desk fast asleep. Although yes he wants to laugh at the situation he needs to know that you’re okay first

✨Gently shakes you awake while whispering your name to not scare you considering it had happened before😅 by accident of course

✨Finally chuckles once he realized you were just tired from a long day of running errands and doing hours upon hours of paper work that price had asked of you. Though yes you had gotten most of them done, there was still atleast a bit more to go through but Ale refused to let you do it considering you had already burnt yourself out

✨Doesn’t take no as an answer and makes sure to treat you to your favorite things! Like food, dessert, run a bath for you and cuddle for the rest of the night. Wants you at your very best and refuses to let you work yourself like that again. Despite laughing at the situation he was actually worried

Simon

🖤Shuts the door behind him before making his way over to your sleeping form. Papers scattered around, pen in hand as your head rests upon the stack of papers underneath you. He moves a strain of hair away from your face before waking you up, careful to make sure nothing is knocked over to the floor

🖤Doesn’t let you continue no matter how much your protest and saying that you need to turn these in. He won’t hear it and makes you come home, also considering it was now quarter past 8 and you were supposed to clock out 15 minutes ago

🖤Runs you a hot bath and orders take out full on knowing that the both of you were too tired to cook let alone, want to clean up the aftermath

🖤Pulls you on top of him once you climb into bed and rests his chin upon your head, gently rubbing your arm in comfort. He knows he can’t really help you finish the paperwork but damn will try to ease your aching head and hands the best of his ability and make sure you get a good nights sleep

Price

🥀Accidentally woke you up from him laughing at your state. Hair had become undone as your arm was slumped over across the desk, pen that was once in your hand was now on the floor, cap long gone to who knows where

🥀Helps to organize your things before taking you home where you much needed to be. The paper work can wait another day, it’s not like it needed to be done right away considering you have a full week to turn it in. Is honestly quite amazed that you got most of it done within a few hours

🥀Makes you dinner and turns on your favorite show/movie before settling down beside you despite you fussing over to finish the paperwork. He shakes his head in return and laughs at your determination before hushing you with a kiss. He knows you’re a hard worker but you also need to take care of yourself in order not to have another burn out

🥀Helps you settle into bed before climbing in himself and cuddling you from behind, using his weight to help ease your anxiety. Gently kissing along your neck before nuzzling into your hair

#cod #ask #mw2 #headcanons #x reader #modern warfare #modern warfare2 #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #captain price headcanons #captain price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #Alejandro Vargas headcanons #request

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wonusdoll · 10 months

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FLOWERS • PJS

Synopsis: Jisungs a hopeless romantic and gets jealous easily

Content: fluff! cavity inducing fluff so fluffy i wanna cry

pairing: Childhood Bestfriend!Jisung x reader

notes+ WHY DOES NOBODY WRITE FOR JISUNGGGG i had to take matters into my own hands so here you go :D this was originally gonna contain smut but i couldnt help myself with the fluff anyways, enjoy!!

You and Jisung weren't always friends. When your mom introduced her best friends second grader son, 4th grade you didn't mind. Until he started playing with your stuff, jumping on your bed, stealing your snacks, and blaming you on things he did and getting you in trouble.

Naturally, you started resenting him, dreading when he would come over, and chose to ignore him at school, finding it embarrassing whenever he would go over to you and your friends at the playground and ask to play with them. your friends found him cute, but you, you hated him.

Going into your middle school years, he slowly got more tolerable. He started understanding boundaries but still was the same annoying little kid.

In some point of time, Jisung turned from an annoying little kid who yelled and cried all the time to one of your closest friends. And then when he finally started high school, you guys started hanging out willingly, without his mom forcing him to go over.

Some days you would catch him in your living room watching tv with your dog, or accidentally walking in on him showering in your bathroom, or in your kitchen making ramen. Sometimes he would bring his friends over to your house. You honestly didn't mind that much as long as they never broke anything, or disturbed her in any way, which jisung made sure never happened.

"Jisung?? That you??" You yelled from the top of the stairs after hearing feet shuffling and the front door opening and closing. The two of you made plans to watch horror movies and have a sleepover to celebrate the new season of autumn.

"Nope!" Jisung yelled back, making you go downstairs with a grin. But you immediately furrowed your brows and bit your inner cheek, upon seeing 6 other people. you knew them, jisung would bring them around sometimes but you didn’t know them.

"Jisung, whats going on?"

He grinned annoyingly cutely back and held up some convenience store bags up and nodded towards his friends, "They wanted to hang out but my mom banned us from the house after last time.”

You scoff and look at him like he was crazy, "What- are you kidding me?" You say just above a whisper, flickering your eyes between him and the guys behind him, "I thought we were gonna hang out?? You didn't even ask if it was okay to bring them over? if you wanted to hang out with them instead you should've just told me."

With a smirk, jisung was much closer than you remember him being, he tucked a few stray strands of your hand back, "I'm sorry princess i should have asked, hm? If we're too much of a bother we'll quiet down okay?" He pulled away and looked into your eyes, pleading and begging for uou to say yes.

You mask your flustered state with a sigh and wiping your face with your hand as if annoyed.

"Fine, whatever, just— leave me alone im gonna go study" you warn making him grin and ruffle your hair, juxtaposing his previous act. He's called you princess numerous times before, even when you guys were kids but in that tone, that voice, and devilish smile, it felt different.

You wanted to tell him off for joking around with you like that, making you feel that way. It was something you always felt around him but maybe it was his perfectly messy hair, his oversized hoodie making him look so comfy, his soft plump lips, or his hand in your hair, or the name he called you, but the feeling became overwhelmingly strong, like when a candles been burning for hours and slowly the fire grows bigger and it fills the whole room with its pleasant fumes.

You hung around with them for a bit when you took a break from studying because you couldn't focus. but the reason you couldnt focus was sitting right across from you on the couch, sending lingering glances everybody noticed.

When he catches your gaze you turn away with a light blush but when you catch his, he doesnt shy away, keeping eye contact with you with a look in his eye that you couldnt read for the first time.

In the time you got to formally meet his best friends, you surprisingly got along with all of them. Huang Renjun was the one who stuck out the most out of the 7, other than Jisung who kept eyes on you the whole time.

You got to have a one on one conversation with Renjun about each others favorite music artists, which were quite similar, and art itself. You were already interested in art but with the knowledge and story telling Renjun excitedly provided made you want to learn more. So you guys planned a hang out the next day to an art museum Renjun was fond and familiar with.

You posted the day out with him on your story with Art Deco - Lana Del Rey in the background.

Jisung always made sure to heart and reply to your story even if it was as simple as an ootd, but this time he didn't. You furrowed your brows and looked at the views and there he was, also active. You tried texting him regularly but you were left on delivered until 7 hours later but all you got was a

"sorry lol"

It hurt your feelings, you couldn't lie. So you texted him again not even 5 seconds later.

"too busy being active to answer? lmfao"

He leaves it on read for a few minutes before replying

"too busy hanging out with renjun? yk we all made plans tgt”

You scoff at his attitude

"whats your problem?? it was HIS choice to hang out with ME. not like you wanted to."

"chill out i just wanted them to meet you, didn't know you were gonna be all over them tho"

"fuck you."

You threw your phone at the end of the bed and hug your pillow against your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know why you were so affected by his words, usually you wouldn't even press him so much about not answering, and would just leave him alone but seeing him be so uninterested left a mark on you.

A few nights later you were watching a scary movie in the darkness of your living room when you heard knocks on your front door. you paused the movie to make sure it wasn't from the tv, and when they come again, you look at the time.

"Who's here at 11:30 at night" You whisper to yourself and cautiously approach the door.

Thunder suddenly struck making you whimper and jump back, but you decide to just rip the bandaid off, after all horror movies aren't real right?

"Jisung?!" You exclaim, seeing him standing there out in the pouring rain with his head down ashamed.

"Hey.."

You quickly let him in, taking his soaked coat off and telling him to wait while you get a towel.

He was silent while you scolded him for being out in the rain so late without so much as an umbrella.

He finally brung his hands from behind his back, revealing your favorite flowers in an articulated assorted bouquet wrapped in paper.

"Sorry if they're kind of ruined.. I ran all the way here" He sniffles and scratched his nape awkwardly.

You bite your lip remembering your last interaction, "You wanna tell me why?"

"I'm sorry y/n im so sorry im such a fucking loser and a coward for getting mad at you I never wanted to hurt you i just was so angry that you hung out with Renjun that i took it out on you without thinking and ive been trying to figure out how to apologize to you so i went to the flower shop like 10 times in the past 2 days because i wanted to get you flowers but you have 5 different favorite flowers so i got 5 different bouquets for you then realized that was too much so i just got one with 2 of your favorites but felt bad that i left out the other 3 so i got another one with all of them but they didn't look good so i spent the whole day learning how to make a bouquet to make it perfect for you then realized it was already night and thundering and you hate thunder so i ran all the way here and now they look horrible and ugly and-"

"JISUNG." You put a stop to his rant with a chuckle and put your hands on his pink dusted cheeks. He pants out and looks in your eyes to find any anger or disgust in them but you were smiling, "Hey its okay, i promise its okay," You take the flowers from his hands and bring them up to your face to smell them, "they're beautiful ji, seriously."

He takes another pan over your face to scan your expression to really make sure you weren't mad and one he realized that, he lets out the breath he was holding and chuckles, then laughs a bit harder.

You laugh along with him then card your fingers through his wet hair, "Did you really learn how to make a bouquet of flowers for me? And run all the way here in the rain?" You ask, softly now.

He smiles and takes your hand away to hold it instead, "Yeah.. you know i would swim across the whole ocean just to get these to you. Also whats wrong with learning a new skill, i always wanted to learn how to.. make assorted flowers.." He dryly chuckles at the end.

you could hear your heart thumping out of your chest when you feel the pressure of his eyes staring into your own, as if trying to answer a question he hasn't asked. so you ask your own.

"Jisung," You start making him nod, "Why were you so upset?" You ask, making you swallow thickly.

and suddenly you're hyper aware of everything going on, your breathing, your blinking, the rain and thunder, his facial expressions, his thumb caressing your hand.

Jisung doesnt answer for a second, trying to find the right words. His mouth was drying up, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he gulped.

He was now holding your hand with both of his hands, "I love you." he blurted, "I love you and Im selfish and only want you to myself, I just wanted to treasure you for my myself and not let other people see how amazing and perfect you are because i was scared you'd fall for them and forget about me so when i saw you were with renjun and saw how excited you were to talk to him and hang out with him i felt.. rejected? in a way? like he had something i didn't to make you feel that way. So i was sad and upset and jealous— god, i was so unbelievably jealous, and i know im not allowed to because we're only best friends and you're allowed to be friends and talk to anybody you want to but i just- i just didn't want you to notice anyone else, and leave me.."

He ended his rant with a sigh and closed his eyes shut, mentally preparing for you to laugh in his face and friend-zone him, but it never came.

When he opened his eyes you were just standing there, not saying anything, with a smile on your face.

You giggled as he looked at you with an expectant look.

“Okay.”

His brows furrowed and his hand started slipping from yours “That- thats it? Just okay? You couldn’t have let me down any better-“

“Okay, I wont leave you.”

His expression softened, watching as you laughed and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest, “Jisung park, I will never leave you and you can never leave me, if you do i’ll have to kill you.” You tried to threaten him but he just found you adorable, and picked you up in his arms.

You guys laughter filled the room, bouncing around the rooms, sounding almost louder than the rain and thunder.

Suddenly, your enemy turned into your bestfriend who turned into your lover. And you couldn’t have it any other way.

#park jisung fluff #park jisung fic #park jisung smut #nct fic #nct dream #nct dream jisung #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 #jisung park #jisung

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 10 months

Text

Protect You Always

pairing : cloud strife x (fem) reader

summary: tifa is sure that cloud has feelings for you. so sure that she accidentally makes you confess.

warnings: none :)

“Could you go run errands with Cloud today?” Tifa held her hands out to you, mock pleas all over her face.

“Huh? Why me? Why can’t you?” She backed away, turning to concoct another drink up for you, loosening you up to ask for her favour most likely.

“Sure I could. But..he seems to have taken a liking to a certain mercenary sitting at my bar.” Suddenly your drink caught in your throat. With flushed cheeks you moved your almost empty cup up to your lips to hide your face as much as possible from anybody listening in. That was crazy. Cloud didn’t feel anything for anybody, except maybe…you thought for Tifa? With her back still turned she let out a small laugh, and you could feel the smile burning on her face.

“That’s not funny Tifa.” Quickly she turned to face you, startling you enough to set your drink down onto the surface of the bar, as she pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“And I’m not joking. It’s so obvious. He is the nicest to you out of all of us,” she turned to grab the drink and then returned to hand it to you, “Plus he does literally everything you ask him to for FREE, you think he does that to all of us? No way.” If you thought about it long enough, she might be right. You could think of a couple examples of Cloud maybe showing you a little more attention then the rest of the group.

He had walked you home from the bar almost every night for the past year that you had known him. Without fail. Without asking. “Girls like you shouldn’t walk around at night by themselves, it’s not safe.”

“I’m completely capable of walking myself home Cloud”.

“I know”

You would have a little too much to drink or none at all, completely sober and capable of walking yourself down the short street of the slums to your apartment. Didn’t matter, he was still walking you home.

Cloud had never once used the excuse that it was because he lived right above you, and even if he had you would be able to easily tell he was lying because he wouldn’t go home after dropping you at yours.

There was even that one time where you laid your head down on the surface of the bar for five minutes and had woken up in your bed the next morning unsure of how you had even got there, perhaps Cloud avoiding you the next day had nothing to do with that.

Sometimes, when a guy would shoot an inappropriate comment in your direction, Cloud’s cheekbones would become more prominent. Why was he clenching his jaw? And why did he suddenly seem all pouty? You never paid much attention to them anyways and carried on with your day without being bothered by a sleazy guy in the street. Maybe it was simply coincidence that Cloud would always disappear for a couple hours after, without a good excuse or just leaving with a prompt, “I’ll see you later, I have something to take care of.”

However those guys did seem to always end up coming to you with some sort of apology later that day or even the next, roughed up and clearly not there out of free will.

And when you would ask him to do certain things for you that somebody had asked of him the same day. Tifa was right, he never asked you for payment, you couldn’t even remember a time he had accepted payment from you.. Every time you tried to pay him he refused it, pushing it back towards you. “Let's count it as a favor and say you owe me one.” Your face would scrunch up in annoyance but it would fade just as quickly as it had appeared when a barely noticeable smile would upturn Cloud's lips and his eyes would brighten the smallest bit.

“Who knew someone could have such a nice smile when they're all moody and scary all the time.”

“You think I’m scary?” Cloud seemed to make a habit out of smiling around you after that day.

The sound of Tifa’s soft laughter had brought you back to the conversation happening in front of you, her eyes were staring into yours and you could feel your cheeks warm at her catching you daydreaming.

“Thinking about Cloud?” You opened your mouth to retort but another voice interrupted you before you could.

“Who’s thinking about me?” You were mortified, spinning in your chair to see Cloud approaching the bar, most likely coming to collect Tifa for their run to see who needed help. A job that you, unfortunately, had forgotten before he had made his presence known.

“Just your favourite girl seated at my bar.” Tifa gleamed, grin wide and it only grew wider when she looked between your faces. You were flushed, embarrassed, eyes full of maybe anger and a want to hide from the earth. Cloud tried to be stoic, but he gave away his true feelings by the obvious pink tint to his cheeks and the way his mouth opened as he looked towards you. Words caught in both of your throats.

“I won’t be going with you today because I have some extra stuff to do around the bar. Is it okay if y/n goes in my place?”

“Uhhh..” Clouds hesitation made you want to crumble into a ball. If Tifa was right , and he did like you, then why wouldn’t he say yes right away?

“I don’t have to, honestly! I can finish up for you here Tifa!” She’s shot daggers into you with her eyes.

“We’ll whoever’s coming with me, make it quick.” He stared between the two of you, face blank , before turning to go outside. You turned back to look at Tifa not waiting to hear the door close.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” It was your turn to shoot daggers into Tifa.

“Just go with him, why is it any different than any other time?” In her hands she held a dirty class, wiping it down with a washcloth cloth as she spoke to you.

“Because Tifa now you’ve put this stupid idea in my head that maybe, and that’s a pretty big maybe, Cloud Strife might be feeling the same things I do.” She looked at you, concern rolling around in her eyes, and she looked like she was about to speak but you cut her off.

“No. Seriously Tifa, I’m tired of you making it seem like me and Cloud might ever be anything other than co-workers. I can’t keep getting my hopes up over the same guy, and you're really not helping.” Her face was soft now, eyes full of pity before they shuffled towards the door.

“What’s that look for?” You turned your body to follow her eyes. It occurred to, when you met his wide eyes, that you had not actually heard Cloud leave the bar.

“I’ll be waiting..uhh..outside.” Cloud let out an awkward, silence breaking cough before letting himself out the door.

“You are joking. This isn’t real. That didn’t happen. Why’d you let me spew like that?”

“I tried to stop you!” Before you could get any angrier at her she took your hands in hers and spoke before you. “I know that right now, in your head, the whole world just crumbled around you. But you should’ve seen the way Clouds face lit up. It was subtle but it was there.”

You went to speak but her finger met your lips. “Trust me. Go with him, and talk to him about this. Do not leave it.”

A sigh left your lips, tickling her finger enough to pull it away from yours lips, “What if you're wrong Tifa?”

“If I’m wrong, free drinks for a year AND I’ll take over for you on every job with Cloud.” You gave her a somber nod and slipped from the barstool, dragging your feet out the door.

Just as he had said he would be, Cloud stood not far from the door. From where you stood, and you weren’t entirely certain if you were seeing it right, but his cheeks seemed to be gleaming with an unfamiliar red color. As the door closed behind you, Cloud looked over, trying to hide the color blooming on his face.

“Let’s go, I wanna get this done before the sun goes down.” He moves down the stairs quickly before you even get a chance to respond and your heart sinks but you follow after him anyways, heart in your stomach.

The whole ordeal took the two of you maybe an hour and a half, but it felt much much longer. Silence overtook the two of you, both of you being much too stubborn to say the first word, so you worked in complete silence.

When the job was done you almost slumped over in relief, but your heart had been sinking farther and farther in your body the longer it went on, and it was starting to affect you.

“Hey Cloud,” the first words spoken between you for the last two hours, “I’m gonna head home if you don’t need anything else.” You couldn’t even hold eye contact, embarrassment burning your face.

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” You looked up to where his mako tainted eyes were already burning into you, “But I’m still going to. We need to talk.” And with the words, you were sure you could throw up, heart fully sunk now.

What was there to talk about? How he didn’t feel the same and Tifa had been leading you astray for months?

You walked silently beside him, skin crawling as you waited for him to say something.

“I don’t think you’re getting your hopes up.” Hesitating, you looked up from your feet and tried to scan his face, but he was glued forwards.

“What?”

“C’mon don’t make me repeat it. You’re a smart girl, are you gonna wait for me to spell it out?” He shot a glance towards you and you were sure you saw it. He was red. Definitely not as red as you but the color was there!

Your heart returned back to your chest, almost tripping over your feet as you followed his quick pace. He was a man on a mission, always, and his steps were so hard to match. “Oh!”

He didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk but he did ensure that you got up to your apartment safely.

“Would you come in for a second?” Cloud hesitated but he followed, closing the door behind him before standing awkwardly with his arms crossed.

You sat on your bed and tried to think of the right words to say.

“I’m sure that Tifa has made it pretty obvious that I have ..romantic.. feelings for you.” Sitting down on the bed was the wrong move, you felt so much smaller than usual looking up at him, and his attention fully on you wasn’t helping much.

“No kidding.” He rolled his eyes but let a small chuckle leave his lips. Cloud was usually so stoic, so serious, and you loved how he was never like that with you. It put a smile on your face.

“Listen y/n,” Cloud moved towards you to sit on the bed beside you, closer than you would’ve expected from him, “I do feel the same.” A wide smile broke out on your face. his expression remained the same.

“But you have to understand something.” And the smile flew from your face. Cloud was now showing emotion, his hand flying to your cheek, with concern flooding his eyes.

“No. Don’t be sad,” His thumb rubbed soft circles against your skin and you weren’t even sure if he was consciously doing it, “I don’t want you to be in danger if we do this. I care about you and if people know that, you could be used to get to me. I can’t do that to you.”

You placed your hand on top of his, his thumb stopping its movement when you made contact, your other hand reaching for the one resting in his lap. “For you, I can be okay with that.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, ever.”

“Hey! I can handle myself pretty well, you know,” His face was still so serious, and it was making you nervous, “Besides I have my own personal bodyguard.” You pushed his shoulder gently, and a small smile broke out on his face.

“Cloud?"

"Hm?"

"Could I..kiss you?” His mouth opened slightly, but he only nodded.

Gently, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in until he was close enough. His lips brushed against yours and they parted just a little more, you froze in front of him in a moment of flustered hesitation. Cloud took his chance in that moment and pushed his lips onto yours, still holding your cheek in his large, rough hand.

It was quiet and you would’ve felt nervous, if it wasn’t for Cloud’s hands on your skin keeping you so stuck in the monet, and his surprisingly soft lips still held against you.

When he pulled away, his face was still centimeters from your face with your lips still touching slightly, and you almost crumbled from looking into his blown out eyes. You were certain that you looked the same way, your pupils always seemed to be huge when you looked at him anyways.

“I promise I will always protect you.”

“Always?” His hand found yours, holding your fingers within his own, as gently as he could.

“Forever and always.”

#x reader #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #cloud ff7 #female reader #ff7 #oneshot #drabble

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cocteaucherry · 3 months

Text

trials and tribulations .2

summary- falling in love with your sworn enemy was not something you planned.

cws- p&p au/ bridgerton au, inaccurate use of regency language, 18+, misogyny, sexual tension, future smut in later chapters, slow slow burn, LENGTHY descriptions, ooc Suguru, suguru x f!reader, accidental groping, not proofread

taglist- @mandysfanfics

a/n-(I wanna go ahead and apologize for putting this out so late, I truly wasn’t prioritizing this part as much as I needs to ^^ but I hope you enjoy more treats coming soon)

“Y/N it wasn't that awful.”

“I feel as if I were choking, can't believe I made a fool of myself in front of him.”

“There was more than one man there.”

“Don't humor me, Mr. Geto glared at me as if I was a stain on his perfect coat.”

Shoko groaned as she laid flat on the blanket you laid out, usually you a Shoko spent your days outside when finished with chores, and seeming as it was blooming through spring it was perfect.

“He's just a highly disciplined man I guess.”

“But it's no excuse to be so rude and conceited.”

“He's a wealthy man- he can basically do anything.”

“Whatever..” you mumbled plucking a blade of grass from the ground to hold in between your fingers.

Although no matter how many times you say “whatever” you could truly never get Suguru Geto off your mind, it angered you whenever he’d make an appearance, most recently in your dreams.

Waking up abruptly to only groan and try to drift off into sleep, maybe if you just stay inside you’d never see him again.

“Y/N! Letter for you!”

Your hands halted from sewing immediately placing the sharp needle down, “From who?”

Your mother smiled giddily as she gave you the letter, the thick paper and the large G seal told you everything you needed to know.

“Dear, Y/N,

“We really enjoyed your company and presence at our estate last Friday, we’d really appreciate if you could be present tomorrow for a more formal tour of the estate,

Yours truly,

Satoru Gojo

“Wow..” you were breathless having to lightly beat your chest to restart your fear-stricken heart, “This is-”

“Amazing I know, this is your chance y/n! No more chores for you I need to make sure you're in pristine condition”

You were put on bedrest for the rest of the day.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The estate looked a lot different in the daytime, the lamps at night just fully added onto the mystical ambience but now it was just ethereal.

You had worn a nice emerald gown, contrasting perfectly with your updo, you weren’t being led through the manor alone though one of his many servants led you down the halls.

“Sir Gojo will accompany you shortly, he’s slightly busy at the moment.” The man smiled pushing his glasses further on his nose, the man had short dark hair and somehow looked old but young at the same time.

You smiled bowing politely as you glanced around the globe shaped room, “I’ll be waiting.”

“Great, if you need anything miss you may call me Ijichi,” he bowed curtly before walking down the pristine hall.

Seems like everything needs to follow a code in this place.

You thought to yourself as you stepped towards the very large window, the clouds had gathered to a moody gray but the flowers still flowed wistfully.

Somehow the walk here wasn’t as tantalizing as you thought.

If you weren’t as engrossed in your thoughts you would’ve felt or heard the presence that approached behind you.

“Nice to make your acquaintance again miss l/n”

Jolting slightly you placed your hand on your heart, “you frightened me Mr-“

Wait you knew that voice.

You turned slowly hoping to be met with the familiar snow white locks but were instead met with black hair tucked tidily into a bun and a strand of hair falling above his forehead.

Of course..

“Mr Geto,” you pushed out a fake smile trying your best to convince him and yourself that you were delighted to see him, “Delightful to see-“

“Why are you here?”

Wow, okay, very polite.

“Sir, Gojo wanted to give me a tour of the estate.”

He stared at you with narrow eyes as he smirked, “Impossible, Satoru has been ill for the past days.”

“…”

“Uhm, excuse me but..- I don’t think erm-“

“Please stop with the stuttering and spit it out.”

you let out a seething sigh composing yourself, “I was sent a letter.. stating himself he’d like to give me a tour.”

“I heard you the first time,” he groans quietly, rubbing his temple irritatingly.

You both stood in a suffocating relative silence before he surprisingly broke the silence, “I will give you a tour of the outer areas of the estate, that is all I can do. I'm very busy at the moment.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head in agreement, this man couldn’t be kind to save his life but you’d take anything at this point.

“I’d love to.” A small smile appeared on your face but before you could see his reaction he turned walking out of the room, “Follow closely, I don’t have time to waste.”

You hurriedly picked up your pace as you followed after him, hopefully a change of scenery could help the mod.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The wind had picked up as you and Geto continued your walk outside, flowers and lush trees surrounded the back area, a path of white colored flowers falling into a different path.

“White flowers lead to the garden, purple to the fruit groves.” Geto kept his hands behind his back at all times as he stared blankly forward, occasionally glancing at the now darkly gray sky threatening to spill at any moment.

“Woah..” the tone of shock came from your lips with a smile, “this is incredible.”

Geto’s jaw ticked as he stopped dead in his tracks feeling a small droplet of water fall on his forehead, “It truthfully is the standard of the Gojo’s, they’ve truly never known poverty.”

So they’re born into this, “it’s truly an amazing feat.”

he sighed quietly, feeling the light drops of water beginning to fall, “let’s get inside, looks like it’s gonna pour heavily.”

Your smile fell as you nodded quickly, beginning to walk back towards the steps of the back door Geto following in pursuit.

You were just content that he had engaged you in conversation, as you began your descent up the stairs something felt wrong and low and behold.

You lost your footing on the slippery steps.

A yelp left your mouth as you prepared yourself for the tumble and for the insults coming from Geto, you quickly shut your eyes.

Except you didn’t fall, you were caught.

You slowly opened your eyes to see and feel a pair of strong hands, one beneath your breast and one on your waist. A blush creeping on your neck feeling the warm sensation on your body.

You stared up in horror at Geto’s petrified face immediately pushing yourself off of him, the blush on the tips of his ears gave him away as he cleared his throat. “I-Ijichi should be able to help you inside.”

You hummed in response trying to contain yourself as you attempted to calm the blush and hoarseness in your throat, “I-ll get to it.” You watched your step more carefully rushing through the back door.

Once you were in the clear you met out an exasperated sigh clutching your hand to your chest, “Mr Ijichi!” You whispered hoarsely beginning to walk through the hall.

What was this feeling? What were you feeling? Surely this was embarrassment correct?

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto angst #gojo satoru #suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto x female reader #pride and prejudice #bridgerton #regency #slow burn #jjk smut

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capricorn-season · 1 year

Text

10 JUNE 2020

J.K. Rowling Writes about Her Reasons for Speaking out on Sex and Gender Issues

This isn’t an easy piece to write, for reasons that will shortly become clear, but I know it’s time to explain myself on an issue surrounded by toxicity. I write this without any desire to add to that toxicity.

For people who don’t know: last December I tweeted my support for Maya Forstater, a tax specialist who’d lost her job for what were deemed ‘transphobic’ tweets. She took her case to an employment tribunal, asking the judge to rule on whether a philosophical belief that sex is determined by biology is protected in law. Judge Tayler ruled that it wasn’t.

My interest in trans issues pre-dated Maya’s case by almost two years, during which I followed the debate around the concept of gender identity closely. I’ve met trans people, and read sundry books, blogs and articles by trans people, gender specialists, intersex people, psychologists, safeguarding experts, social workers and doctors, and followed the discourse online and in traditional media. On one level, my interest in this issue has been professional, because I’m writing a crime series, set in the present day, and my fictional female detective is of an age to be interested in, and affected by, these issues herself, but on another, it’s intensely personal, as I’m about to explain.

All the time I’ve been researching and learning, accusations and threats from trans activists have been bubbling in my Twitter timeline. This was initially triggered by a ‘like’. When I started taking an interest in gender identity and transgender matters, I began screenshotting comments that interested me, as a way of reminding myself what I might want to research later. On one occasion, I absent-mindedly ‘liked’ instead of screenshotting. That single ‘like’ was deemed evidence of wrongthink, and a persistent low level of harassment began.

Months later, I compounded my accidental ‘like’ crime by following Magdalen Berns on Twitter. Magdalen was an immensely brave young feminist and lesbian who was dying of an aggressive brain tumour. I followed her because I wanted to contact her directly, which I succeeded in doing. However, as Magdalen was a great believer in the importance of biological sex, and didn’t believe lesbians should be called bigots for not dating trans women with penises, dots were joined in the heads of twitter trans activists, and the level of social media abuse increased.

I mention all this only to explain that I knew perfectly well what was going to happen when I supported Maya. I must have been on my fourth or fifth cancellation by then. I expected the threats of violence, to be told I was literally killing trans people with my hate, to be called cunt and bitch and, of course, for my books to be burned, although one particularly abusive man told me he’d composted them.

What I didn’t expect in the aftermath of my cancellation was the avalanche of emails and letters that came showering down upon me, the overwhelming majority of which were positive, grateful and supportive. They came from a cross-section of kind, empathetic and intelligent people, some of them working in fields dealing with gender dysphoria and trans people, who’re all deeply concerned about the way a socio-political concept is influencing politics, medical practice and safeguarding. They’re worried about the dangers to young people, gay people and about the erosion of women’s and girl’s rights. Above all, they’re worried about a climate of fear that serves nobody – least of all trans youth – well.

I’d stepped back from Twitter for many months both before and after tweeting support for Maya, because I knew it was doing nothing good for my mental health. I only returned because I wanted to share a free children’s book during the pandemic. Immediately, activists who clearly believe themselves to be good, kind and progressive people swarmed back into my timeline, assuming a right to police my speech, accuse me of hatred, call me misogynistic slurs and, above all – as every woman involved in this debate will know – TERF.

If you didn’t already know – and why should you? – ‘TERF’ is an acronym coined by trans activists, which stands for Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist. In practice, a huge and diverse cross-section of women are currently being called TERFs and the vast majority have never been radical feminists. Examples of so-called TERFs range from the mother of a gay child who was afraid their child wanted to transition to escape homophobic bullying, to a hitherto totally unfeminist older lady who’s vowed never to visit Marks & Spencer again because they’re allowing any man who says they identify as a woman into the women’s changing rooms. Ironically, radical feminists aren’t even trans-exclusionary – they include trans men in their feminism, because they were born women.

But accusations of TERFery have been sufficient to intimidate many people, institutions and organisations I once admired, who’re cowering before the tactics of the playground. ‘They’ll call us transphobic!’ ‘They’ll say I hate trans people!’ What next, they’ll say you’ve got fleas? Speaking as a biological woman, a lot of people in positions of power really need to grow a pair (which is doubtless literally possible, according to the kind of people who argue that clownfish prove humans aren’t a dimorphic species).

So why am I doing this? Why speak up? Why not quietly do my research and keep my head down?

Well, I’ve got five reasons for being worried about the new trans activism, and deciding I need to speak up.

Firstly, I have a charitable trust that focuses on alleviating social deprivation in Scotland, with a particular emphasis on women and children. Among other things, my trust supports projects for female prisoners and for survivors of domestic and sexual abuse. I also fund medical research into MS, a disease that behaves very differently in men and women. It’s been clear to me for a while that the new trans activism is having (or is likely to have, if all its demands are met) a significant impact on many of the causes I support, because it’s pushing to erode the legal definition of sex and replace it with gender.

The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.

The third is that, as a much-banned author, I’m interested in freedom of speech and have publicly defended it, even unto Donald Trump.

The fourth is where things start to get truly personal. I’m concerned about the huge explosion in young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning (returning to their original sex), because they regret taking steps that have, in some cases, altered their bodies irrevocably, and taken away their fertility. Some say they decided to transition after realising they were same-sex attracted, and that transitioning was partly driven by homophobia, either in society or in their families.

Most people probably aren’t aware – I certainly wasn’t, until I started researching this issue properly – that ten years ago, the majority of people wanting to transition to the opposite sex were male. That ratio has now reversed. The UK has experienced a 4400% increase in girls being referred for transitioning treatment. Autistic girls are hugely overrepresented in their numbers.

The same phenomenon has been seen in the US. In 2018, American physician and researcher Lisa Littman set out to explore it. In an interview, she said:

‘Parents online were describing a very unusual pattern of transgender-identification where multiple friends and even entire friend groups became transgender-identified at the same time. I would have been remiss had I not considered social contagion and peer influences as potential factors.’

Littman mentioned Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube as contributing factors to Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, where she believes that in the realm of transgender identification ‘youth have created particularly insular echo chambers.’

Her paper caused a furore. She was accused of bias and of spreading misinformation about transgender people, subjected to a tsunami of abuse and a concerted campaign to discredit both her and her work. The journal took the paper offline and re-reviewed it before republishing it. However, her career took a similar hit to that suffered by Maya Forstater. Lisa Littman had dared challenge one of the central tenets of trans activism, which is that a person’s gender identity is innate, like sexual orientation. Nobody, the activists insisted, could ever be persuaded into being trans.

The argument of many current trans activists is that if you don’t let a gender dysphoric teenager transition, they will kill themselves. In an article explaining why he resigned from the Tavistock (an NHS gender clinic in England) psychiatrist Marcus Evans stated that claims that children will kill themselves if not permitted to transition do not ‘align substantially with any robust data or studies in this area. Nor do they align with the cases I have encountered over decades as a psychotherapist.’

The writings of young trans men reveal a group of notably sensitive and clever people. The more of their accounts of gender dysphoria I’ve read, with their insightful descriptions of anxiety, dissociation, eating disorders, self-harm and self-hatred, the more I’ve wondered whether, if I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. I struggled with severe OCD as a teenager. If I’d found community and sympathy online that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment, I believe I could have been persuaded to turn myself into the son my father had openly said he’d have preferred.

When I read about the theory of gender identity, I remember how mentally sexless I felt in youth. I remember Colette’s description of herself as a ‘mental hermaphrodite’ and Simone de Beauvoir’s words: ‘It is perfectly natural for the future woman to feel indignant at the limitations posed upon her by her sex. The real question is not why she should reject them: the problem is rather to understand why she accepts them.’

As I didn’t have a realistic possibility of becoming a man back in the 1980s, it had to be books and music that got me through both my mental health issues and the sexualised scrutiny and judgement that sets so many girls to war against their bodies in their teens. Fortunately for me, I found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians who reassured me that, in spite of everything a sexist world tries to throw at the female-bodied, it’s fine not to feel pink, frilly and compliant inside your own head; it’s OK to feel confused, dark, both sexual and non-sexual, unsure of what or who you are.

I want to be very clear here: I know transition will be a solution for some gender dysphoric people, although I’m also aware through extensive research that studies have consistently shown that between 60-90% of gender dysphoric teens will grow out of their dysphoria. Again and again I’ve been told to ‘just meet some trans people.’ I have: in addition to a few younger people, who were all adorable, I happen to know a self-described transsexual woman who’s older than I am and wonderful. Although she’s open about her past as a gay man, I’ve always found it hard to think of her as anything other than a woman, and I believe (and certainly hope) she’s completely happy to have transitioned. Being older, though, she went through a long and rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation. The current explosion of trans activism is urging a removal of almost all the robust systems through which candidates for sex reassignment were once required to pass. A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law. Many people aren’t aware of this.

We’re living through the most misogynistic period I’ve experienced. Back in the 80s, I imagined that my future daughters, should I have any, would have it far better than I ever did, but between the backlash against feminism and a porn-saturated online culture, I believe things have got significantly worse for girls. Never have I seen women denigrated and dehumanised to the extent they are now. From the leader of the free world’s long history of sexual assault accusations and his proud boast of ‘grabbing them by the pussy’, to the incel (‘involuntarily celibate’) movement that rages against women who won’t give them sex, to the trans activists who declare that TERFs need punching and re-educating, men across the political spectrum seem to agree: women are asking for trouble. Everywhere, women are being told to shut up and sit down, or else.

I’ve read all the arguments about femaleness not residing in the sexed body, and the assertions that biological women don’t have common experiences, and I find them, too, deeply misogynistic and regressive. It’s also clear that one of the objectives of denying the importance of sex is to erode what some seem to see as the cruelly segregationist idea of women having their own biological realities or – just as threatening – unifying realities that make them a cohesive political class. The hundreds of emails I’ve received in the last few days prove this erosion concerns many others just as much. It isn’t enough for women to be trans allies. Women must accept and admit that there is no material difference between trans women and themselves.

But, as many women have said before me, ‘woman’ is not a costume. ‘Woman’ is not an idea in a man’s head. ‘Woman’ is not a pink brain, a liking for Jimmy Choos or any of the other sexist ideas now somehow touted as progressive. Moreover, the ‘inclusive’ language that calls female people ‘menstruators’ and ‘people with vulvas’ strikes many women as dehumanising and demeaning. I understand why trans activists consider this language to be appropriate and kind, but for those of us who’ve had degrading slurs spat at us by violent men, it’s not neutral, it’s hostile and alienating.

Which brings me to the fifth reason I’m deeply concerned about the consequences of the current trans activism.

I’ve been in the public eye now for over twenty years and have never talked publicly about being a domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor. This isn’t because I’m ashamed those things happened to me, but because they’re traumatic to revisit and remember. I also feel protective of my daughter from my first marriage. I didn’t want to claim sole ownership of a story that belongs to her, too. However, a short while ago, I asked her how she’d feel if I were publicly honest about that part of my life, and she encouraged me to go ahead.

I’m mentioning these things now not in an attempt to garner sympathy, but out of solidarity with the huge numbers of women who have histories like mine, who’ve been slurred as bigots for having concerns around single-sex spaces.

I managed to escape my first violent marriage with some difficulty, but I’m now married to a truly good and principled man, safe and secure in ways I never in a million years expected to be. However, the scars left by violence and sexual assault don’t disappear, no matter how loved you are, and no matter how much money you’ve made. My perennial jumpiness is a family joke – and even I know it’s funny – but I pray my daughters never have the same reasons I do for hating sudden loud noises, or finding people behind me when I haven’t heard them approaching.

If you could come inside my head and understand what I feel when I read about a trans woman dying at the hands of a violent man, you’d find solidarity and kinship. I have a visceral sense of the terror in which those trans women will have spent their last seconds on earth, because I too have known moments of blind fear when I realised that the only thing keeping me alive was the shaky self-restraint of my attacker.

I believe the majority of trans-identified people not only pose zero threat to others, but are vulnerable for all the reasons I’ve outlined. Trans people need and deserve protection. Like women, they’re most likely to be killed by sexual partners. Trans women who work in the sex industry, particularly trans women of colour, are at particular risk. Like every other domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor I know, I feel nothing but empathy and solidarity with trans women who’ve been abused by men.

So I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe. When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.

On Saturday morning, I read that the Scottish government is proceeding with its controversial gender recognition plans, which will in effect mean that all a man needs to ‘become a woman’ is to say he’s one. To use a very contemporary word, I was ‘triggered’. Ground down by the relentless attacks from trans activists on social media, when I was only there to give children feedback about pictures they’d drawn for my book under lockdown, I spent much of Saturday in a very dark place inside my head, as memories of a serious sexual assault I suffered in my twenties recurred on a loop. That assault happened at a time and in a space where I was vulnerable, and a man capitalised on an opportunity. I couldn’t shut out those memories and I was finding it hard to contain my anger and disappointment about the way I believe my government is playing fast and loose with womens and girls’ safety.

Late on Saturday evening, scrolling through children’s pictures before I went to bed, I forgot the first rule of Twitter – never, ever expect a nuanced conversation – and reacted to what I felt was degrading language about women. I spoke up about the importance of sex and have been paying the price ever since. I was transphobic, I was a cunt, a bitch, a TERF, I deserved cancelling, punching and death. You are Voldemort said one person, clearly feeling this was the only language I’d understand.

It would be so much easier to tweet the approved hashtags – because of course trans rights are human rights and of course trans lives matter – scoop up the woke cookies and bask in a virtue-signalling afterglow. There’s joy, relief and safety in conformity. As Simone de Beauvoir also wrote, “… without a doubt it is more comfortable to endure blind bondage than to work for one’s liberation; the dead, too, are better suited to the earth than the living.”

Huge numbers of women are justifiably terrified by the trans activists; I know this because so many have got in touch with me to tell their stories. They’re afraid of doxxing, of losing their jobs or their livelihoods, and of violence.

But endlessly unpleasant as its constant targeting of me has been, I refuse to bow down to a movement that I believe is doing demonstrable harm in seeking to erode ‘woman’ as a political and biological class and offering cover to predators like few before it. I stand alongside the brave women and men, gay, straight and trans, who’re standing up for freedom of speech and thought, and for the rights and safety of some of the most vulnerable in our society: young gay kids, fragile teenagers, and women who’re reliant on and wish to retain their single sex spaces. Polls show those women are in the vast majority, and exclude only those privileged or lucky enough never to have come up against male violence or sexual assault, and who’ve never troubled to educate themselves on how prevalent it is.

The one thing that gives me hope is that the women who can protest and organise, are doing so, and they have some truly decent men and trans people alongside them. Political parties seeking to appease the loudest voices in this debate are ignoring women’s concerns at their peril. In the UK, women are reaching out to each other across party lines, concerned about the erosion of their hard-won rights and widespread intimidation. None of the gender critical women I’ve talked to hates trans people; on the contrary. Many of them became interested in this issue in the first place out of concern for trans youth, and they’re hugely sympathetic towards trans adults who simply want to live their lives, but who’re facing a backlash for a brand of activism they don’t endorse. The supreme irony is that the attempt to silence women with the word ‘TERF’ may have pushed more young women towards radical feminism than the movement’s seen in decades.

The last thing I want to say is this. I haven’t written this essay in the hope that anybody will get out a violin for me, not even a teeny-weeny one. I’m extraordinarily fortunate; I’m a survivor, certainly not a victim. I’ve only mentioned my past because, like every other human being on this planet, I have a complex backstory, which shapes my fears, my interests and my opinions. I never forget that inner complexity when I’m creating a fictional character and I certainly never forget it when it comes to trans people.

All I’m asking – all I want – is for similar empathy, similar understanding, to be extended to the many millions of women whose sole crime is wanting their concerns to be heard without receiving threats and abuse.

#gender critical #women #jk rowling #twitter #artículo #text

459 notes · View notes

avemakuta · 7 days

Text

Rose Tyler: I love with the Doctor, but we live in totally separate dimensions, there's no way this will work!

Ten: Oh, whoops! Looks like I accidentally made a clone of myself with all my memories but a human lifespan, guess I'll send him off to stay with Rose forever!

Donna: The Doctor is my best mate, but if I ever remember him I'll burn up and die! And even if that weren't the case, I'm old and I've settled down.

Fourteen: Whoops, made another clone of myself, and my next regeneration told me that I need to retire and take it easy for a few centuries. Guess I'll buy a house and get a mortgage and live here with Donna!

River: I'm in love with the Doctor, but I know it's unrealistic and he would never love me back because he doesn't go around falling in love with people.

Twelve: Oh damn, gotta take a few decades on a romantic date with River and settle into a nice domestic life for years and years and years.

Yaz: I'm in love with the Doctor and she calls me her family and I'm starting to think she even loves me back.

Thirteen: If I were to settle down with anyone (other than Rose, Donna, or River), it would be you, believe me. But I'm the Doctor! I'm a Time Lord! I can never settle down with anyone no matter how much I want to!

#doctor who #rose tyler #tenth doctor #metacrisis doctor #donna noble #fourteenth doctor #river song #twelfth doctor #yasmin khan #thirteenth doctor

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milkywayhou · 3 months

Text

YOU'VE GOT EMAIL (König X OC: Medical Student!Snow) PART I

Summary: When the Colonel from some Private Military Corporation group accidentally send KorTac's secret file via email to a random civilian girl.

König send wrong email to a wrong person

TWs: A lot curse words (from Snow), both of them being passive-aggressive, slow burn (kinda). I just wrote this for fun

Words Count: 3k (That's a lot for an email lol)

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

02/28/23 at 03:42 pm

Subject: KorTac Tactical Operations File E12345 Classification: Top Secret

Lieutenant,

Apologies for the inappropriate transmission. As head of KorTac Special Forces, securing sensitive documents is of utmost priority. Please confirm deletion of the attached file and we’ll consider the matter closed.

While I understand your confusion receiving such a file unsolicited, KorTac business must remain confidential. I trust a responsible professional such as yourself understands the necessity of discretion in such matters. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if any other issues arise.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

02/28/23 at 07:12 pm

Subject: RE: Creepy email

Excuse me,

I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I know is I got some weird files from “KorTac Tactical” that I definitely did NOT ask for. Do you know how scary it is to get secret military documents out of nowhere? I thought it was one of my friends pranking me at first.

Instead of lecturing me about deleting things, maybe you should be more careful who you send your “top secret” info to. I’m just trying to study neurology over here, not get dragged into some clandestine Special Forces stuff.

Lighten up a little, yeah? It was an honest mistake I’m sure. No harm done.

Snow

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

02/28/23 at 08:02 pm

Subject: RE: RE: Creepy email

Ms. Farron,

I can assure you there was no “creepy email” or files sent from this office. As Commander of one of the world’s premier private military factions, securing classified intel is of utmost priority. If some file was erroneously transmitted to your address in error, it did not originate from my users.

While I understand the desire to shrug off mistakenly received sensitive documents, national security does not warrant such lackadaisical treatment. If you have relevant data in your possession, basic courtesy requires replying to the original correspondent – in this case, myself – to ascertain the source of error.

Do let me know if you retrieve any files in question. And in future, a bit more discretion and less indignation may serve you well when inadvertently encountering restricted information networks. Consider this a learning experience.

Regards,

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

02/28/23 at 08:22 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Creepy email

Hi Colonel Tightpants,

Thank you for the condescending lecture. As I’ve said THREE times now, I never got any files from you or KorTac or wherever before. All I know is I woke up to an ominous email saying “Top Secret KorTac files” or something. Pretty annoying/alarming for a simple student!

And excuse me for not dropping everything to thoroughly investigate a mistake that wasn’t even mine. Some of us have actual classes to study for, not play secret agent all day.

If you’re so worried about security breaches, maybe focus on your end instead of harassing innocent people via multiple snobby emails. I’ve got better things to do than argue in circles with Mr. High-and-Mighty.

Please remove me from your contact list going forward. And do try to lighten up a little!

Regards,

Snow

P.S. The file is attached. I called it “Creepy Email From Creepy Colonel” for your convenience. Have fun decrypting your own mystery ;)

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

02/28/23 at 09:42 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Creepy email

Ms. Farron,

I will not be spoken to in such a disrespectful and unprofessional manner. While your frustrations are understandable, maintaining proper decorum and respect for sensitive operational matters is not an optional courtesy – it is imperative.

You’re accusations of “harassment” are as unfounded as they are insulting. Do not mistake my patience and courtesy thus far for weakness. Should any real documents surface from my network in error, I expect their immediate return without petulant games or sass.

As a private military organization operating across the globe, security is no light concern for this command. If unable to grasp even the basic responsibility of confirming received documents' origins for the sake of national safety, perhaps the world of intelligence is beyond your current realm of comprehension.

Consider this your final warning. Any further unsubstantiated claims or uncooperative behavior will be met with the full weight of legal action and your academic institution will be notified accordingly. Is that absolutely clear, Ms. Farron?

Reply confirming so or cease contact immediately. I will not tolerate insubordination, especially from an civilian amateur dabbling where she has no clearance. Maintain discretion as instructed or suffer consequences – the choice is yours.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/01/23 at 09:29 am

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Creepy Email

Colonel High-Horse,

Spare me your thinly veiled threats. If you’re so sure I have hide some Top Secret Files™, by all means come search my dorm room yourself since you clearly don’t believe a word I say. Oh wait, you can’t – because there’s NOTHING.

Maybe take a break from power tripping over email and try listening to the person who’s actually involved for once. Not my fault if your big bad security systems have holes. But I guess acknowledging mistakes isn’t very military, is it?

You wanna see uncooperative and petulant? Keep harassing me and I’ll forward our whole conversation to the national news. Something tells me they’d love to hear how easily “the world’s premier private military” loses confidential files.

So for the last time – I did NOT receive ANY files from you or KorTac aside the one you accidentally send. If you’re incapable of comprehending that, then you’re dumber than you look. Consider THIS your final warning to lay off before I take action, Colonel Tightass.

Snow

Formerly Civilian, Currently Pissed Off

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

03/01/23 at 08:55 am

Subject: Enough

Ms. Farron,

Your insubordination has crossed several lines. While I sought to resolve this discreetly, you force my hand with threats and insults. Know that I do not respond kindly to such provocation.

If you insist upon escalating this beyond reason, so be it. However, tread carefully – you are ignorant of forces beyond your control. Dare to sully KorTac’s name to fuel your petulance, and all your academic and personal records will undergo… thorough review.

Accidents happen, as you claim. But any damage to our operations will not be taken lightly, no matter your perceived innocence. Heed my words well, girl – you do not wish to become an enemy of this command.

Consider this last attempt at civil discourse. Cease contact and let this die, or suffer consequences you cannot imagine. The choice, as before, remains yours.

I expect no further correspondence. You are now on formal notice – proceed at your own peril.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/01/23 at 11:38 pm

Subject: Go to Hell

You want a fight, you’ll get one you pompous prick. Your “command” and threats mean nothing to me.

If anything happens to my academic career or personal life, the world will know exactly who’s responsible. I don’t care how elite you think you are.

Bring whatever you’ve got – I’m not afraid of some borderline psychotic and his glorified gun club. You want a target? Consider it painted on your back from now on.

Have fun trying to intimidate me, ASSHOLE. You just made the worst enemy of your pathetic life.

Goodbye forever. Don’t bother responding – you’re officially dead to me.

Snow Farron

Future Doctor, Current Pain in Your Ass

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

03/02/23 at 01:29 am

Subject: So Be It

Foolish girl. You have no concept of the forces you now contend with. Consider carefully the hole you’ve dug, for there will be no mercy if you proceed.

However, my integrity will not permit baseless threats against civilians. If you agree to cease hostilities and let this dissolve quietly, no further action will be taken. Your record and life will remain untouched.

The choice is simple – walk away unscathed, or persist in this idiocy and face consequences beyond imagination. Think carefully on your next move, little one. Tread no further, and this can end.

You have one hour for a sensible reply before measures are taken. Make them count.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/03/23 at 02:04 am

Subject: Bite Me

Yeah, I’m real scared of your “forces” and “consequences beyond imagination.” Give me a break.

You think I’m going to bow down to your threats just because you’re some big shot Colonel? Please. I’ve dealt with way scarier than pompous bully babies like you.

So do your worst, tough guy. Come at me with everything you’ve got. I promise it still won’t be enough to make me back down from a pissant fraud like you.

Your “hour” can go fuck itself. You want to end this? Then stay the hell away from me and leave me alone forever. Otherwise this isn’t over by a long shot.

Tick tock, pal. Your time is running out and so is your chance to slink away with your tail between your legs. Better figure out your next move fast!

Not holding my breath for anything “sensible” though. Later, loser!

Snow “Untouchable” Farron

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/05/23 at 11:09 pm

Subject: wassup bitchhhhh

Hey asshooooole its ur girl Snow again!! Had a few dranks w/ friends to forget ur stupid email but the pain remainsss lolll

Jus wanted to let u kno ur still a total dickhead no matter how drunk I get. Probly shouldn’t be emailing u since last time but fuck it YOLO right???

Anyway ur threats meant nothing I had a blast tonight. Try n stop me next time I feel like partying fuck face!!! No1 messes w snow n gets away with it

Also saw some guy who looked like u at the bar what a coincidink lol. Hope he feels as stupid as u in the morn ;))

Hope ur having a shit night missing out on the fun. Don’t reply I prob wont even remember this! Byeeeeeee loser stay mad <33333

Xoxo drunk snow

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

03/06/23 at 01:50 am

Subject: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Well well, what have we here. It seems our intrepid Dr. Farron has landed herself in an inebriated state this night.

Can’t say I blame you for seeking alcohol’s comfort after our little disagreement. Dealing with my “stupid emails” and “threats” must have been terribly traumatic. You have my deepest sympathies, truly.

While unwise to conduct militarized business intoxicated, I’ll admit your drunken ramblings provided some mild amusement. The imagery of you partying it up solely to spite me was rather quaint. Do try to stay safe in your revelries, dear – would hate for some unfortunate accident.

As for your daring insinuation about encountering my likeness at a bar, I can assure you my nights are occupied with matters far more pressing than drinking. But I appreciate the laugh, strange as it came from such a belligerent tongue.

Enjoy your hangover, Snow. And sleep well – who knows what mischief tomorrow may bring.

Regards,

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

P.S. Do refrain from over-indulging too often. Wouldn’t want those fine medical skills to dull prematurely, now would we?

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/06/23 at 05:28 am

Subject: RE: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Yeah yeah, laugh it up. We all do dumb shit when we’re drunk occasionally. At least I have an excuse, unlike you and your constant stick up the ass personality.

That being said, I suppose I owe you an apology for that ridiculous email last night. Not my finest moment, to say the least. But you seem to bring out the worst in me, so.

Consider us even for any “amusement” you got at my expense. I’m suffering enough with this hangover from hell as it is.

Just so we’re clear though – I’m not some damsel for you to patronize or imply threats towards. Keep your smug sarcasm, I don’t need it. We’re done here, got it?

Good. Now fuck off and leave me alone to die in peace, Dickhead von Buzzkill. And next time – lay off the sauce OR lay off me. Your choice, Colonel

Snow “Moderately Sober But Still Pissed” Farron

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/06/23 at 09:33 am

Subject: RE: RE: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Alright Colonel Buzzkill, I’ll admit my constant insults aren’t getting us anywhere. As much as I hate to inflate that already massive ego of yours, maybe there was a tiny little misunderstanding somewhere along the way.

Med school has been kicking my ass lately and I’ve been on edge. Between the mounting student loans, endless assignments, and stressful exams, I’m about one Red Bull away from a full breakdown. Not that you probably care about such peasant problems.

Anyways, my point is – I may have overreacted a bit to this whole email mixup. Even if it WAS totally not my fault *eyes emoji*. Can’t a girl blow off some steam without the world’s most uptight Colonel threatening her into an early grave?

Lay off with the intimidation tactics already. I said I was sorry for getting drunk and belligerent, more or less. What more do you want, my first born child in sacrifice?

Just, try to lighten up a little if we have to keep interacting for god knows what reason. I’m too exhausted to keep fighting a war on 20 different fronts. Truce?

Overworked and Underpaid,

Snow

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

03/06/23 at 09:01 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Oh? So the fledgling doctor deigns to admit a modicum of culpability at last. How gracious of her highness to acknowledge her part in this debacle, no matter how begrudgingly.

Though I’ll not deny deriving a certain satisfaction from seeing you squirm, that was never my aim. As Commander of KorTac, security of sensitive data is no laughing matter – a concept you seemed unwilling or unable to grasp at the time.

However, as one engaged in higher pursuits of intellectual rigor and public service, I can understand the pressures that come with such territory. Medical education is a noble yet arduous path, as I’m sure even your addled mind comprehends on occasion.

Very well, Ms. Farron – consider this matter put to rest. A temporary ceasefire it is, for the sake of future global stability if nothing else. But tread not again where you have been warned, or I shall not be so gracious next transgression.

Do try to mind your health and studies in lieu of drunken revelry. Wouldn’t want to lose such a pugnacious spirit to frivolity or misfortune. Now, do run along – no doubt some looming assignment awaits its dissection.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/07/23 at 02:19 am

Subject: Aw, you DO care!

Aww, is that actually concern I detect underneath all the big important Colonel bluster? I’m touched, really. Who knew you had a soft spot for lowly students like me.

Admit it – you just can’t stand the thought of little ol’ me disappearing in some “frivolous misfortune.” You’d miss having me around to aggravate that permanent stick up your butt!

But don’t worry, it’ll take more than a silly paper or two to take me out of commission. Unlike some people, I actually know how to unwind without threatening international incidents *cough cough*.

All jokes aside though, truce accepted on my end too. Maybe now we can move past wanting to strangle each other every time we’re in the same email chain. Small victories, right?

Anyways, gotta get back to the grind. Thanks for not making me regret extending the olive branch…this time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Your Favorite Almost-Doctor,

Snow

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

03/07/23 at 08:05 am

Subject: RE: Aw, you DO care!

Cease this incessant jesting at once, fraulein. I neither “care” for you as anything more than a potential security concern, nor possess any jovial qualities to “aggravate.”

A commander's duties require maintaining surveillance of volatile elements wherever they arise. You have thus far proven yourself quite the unpredictable variable, so forgive my reluctance to take eyes fully off the matter.

As for your studies, consider this the only encouragement they shall receive from me. Master your craft with distinction, then mayhaps our paths need not cross again in the future. Though I admit the thought of you disappearing into obscurity does bring its own satisfactions to ponder.

Now then, if you’re quite finished wasting both our time with your misguided attempts at levity, some of us have real work to which attending. Do try and keep yourself from causing further disruptions, medic. You may resume your “grind” in peace.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

From: [email protected]

To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

03/07/23 at 12:56 pm

Subject: RE: RE: Aw, you DO care!

Always so grumpy, Colonel Grumpy Pants! Lighten up a little, will ya? Not all of us can be stoic hard asses all the time.

Speaking of asses, mine is practically dragging on the floor from exhaustion. Between classes, labs, studying, and my various part-time jobs, I’m surprised I have any brain cells left at all.

Don’t even get me started on these student loans. At this rate, I’ll be paying them off until I’m 90. Not that you military bigwigs have to worry about pesky things like money, I’m sure. Must be nice.

You know, maybe I should just forget this whole doctor thing and become a sugar baby instead. At least then I could afford to eat once in a while AND maybe some lucky rich person would be willing to pay off my debts. What do you think – interested in an investment opportunity? I promise I come with lots of free sass and jokes at your expense!

Kidding of course…or am I? You’ll never know!

Your favorite broke and tired med student,

Snow

From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]

To: [email protected]

03/07/23 at 03:37 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Aw, you DO care!

One of these days that improperly-filtered mouth of yours will find its owner in hot water she can’t jest her way out of, medic. I’d advise reigning in these fanciful sugar baby musings before they land you in a far less pleasant situation.

However, your frustration with the systemic burdens of medical education is…understandable. The modern model leaves much to be desired in terms of sustainability for both student and society. A dysfunction perpetuated by greed and shortsightedness at the highest levels, as with so many ills in this world.

As for offers of “investment,” I’ve no surplus funds to patronize frivolities. Nor the patience to entertain speculative propositions from volatile girls who can’t keep themselves from inviting more trouble than they bargain for. Focus that restless energy on your studies as discussed, and all should proceed smoothly.

Now then, if there are no further inanities requiring response, I’ve a command to oversee. Best of luck with exams and endeavors, Farron. Dismissed.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

I will write the next part later when I have time <3

Also comment love and reblogged are very appreciated! 💖

#könig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #könig #cod oc #cod fic #cod mw2 #könig x oc #könig cod mw2 #cod könig #cod x oc

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mochimoqa · 2 months

Note

Hiii I just recently hurt myself accidentally while cooking 😭 so can I request how would you write any of the Moon Boys comforting the reader who feels insecure of scars or marks on their body. Would appreciate it a lot 💗

Hello, anon!

I'm so sorry that you hurt yourself :(

But nothing like a good moon boys x reader will fix that :]

WARNING: Some cursing and Intense Fluff 🤭

...

"OW- Fucking shit-" Y/n screamed at the pain of extreme heat touching their skin. You turned off the stove and went to the restroom to grab your mini med kit.

"Son of a b—" You mumbled to yourself.

You've gotten hurt plenty of times. Either from cooking, activities, etc. You've gotten insecure over the years because of the scars and marks from different activities.

The one time where you were frying chicken and the hot oil splutter on your skin. Leaving some marks on you.

You turned on the cold water from your sink and let the burn somewhat fix the burn.

You sat on the floor and opened the med kit. The irritation of your skin was a bit bad. You grabbed some aloe gel and gently placed it on your burn.

"Ow-" You winced at the pain.

While you were doing this treatment, you heard a knock at the door.

Keys jangling and swung open the door.

"Love, I'm home!"

Oh, goodie! Steven's here.

"Ah, shit-" You panicked and quickly hid the medical supplies.

"Love? Y/n! Where are you?" He was pacing around the house til he found you in the bathroom.

You were covering your hand behind your back.

"Ah, there you are! Marc, Jake and I started to become a little worried there." He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead.

"No, no, I'm always here, baby." You chuckled nervously.

Steven cupped your face and looked into your eyes. God, his cute dark eyes always get to you.

"I feel like you're hiding something..."

Your eyes widened slightly and chuckled nervously.

"What? No-"

He squeezes your face a bit tight.

You instantly knew that this wasn't Steven anymore and it was Marc. Steven was the more gentle of the boys.

"Y/n, I know you're lying to me."

"I- no, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are."

Shit, you've been caught red-handed. (No pun intended.)

"Okay, fine. You got me." You put your burned hand in front of him.

"I burned myself while cooking..."

God, this was so embarrassing to you. You've had too many scars and marks on yourself, you thought for sure they were gonna leave you.

"The burn doesn't look too bad." He grabbed your hand and examined the injury.

"Huh? You- You're not gonna leave me?"

His eyes shot up to you.

"Why would I ever wanna do that?"

"I- because of all of the scars and marks I have on my body... you don't think it's embarrassing?"

"No?"

Marc paused for a moment and seeming zoned out. He was probably talking to Steven and Jake.

"Steven said that he would never leave you."

He looked at your wound and paused again.

"Jake said that he would be stupid to even do that."

You chuckled lightly at their responses.

"Really?" You sighed and leaned against the sink.

"Mhm, and I agree with the both of 'em. You're literally too good to be true, Y/n. Sometimes me and the boys don't even know of how lucky we are to have you."

"But what about my scars?–"

"The scars don't matter. We love you with or without any scars or marks."

He paused again.

"Jake wants to take control to get rid of that stupid stuff you said about yourself."

You sighed, "Alright, bring him out..."

You felt your hand being squeezed.

"Hola, mi amor." (Hey, my love.) He kissed your hand.

You smiled lightly. "Hey, baby."

"So, what in the wrong fucking mindset are you even in?"

"Uh, I don’t know... I just thought that the three of you were gonna leave me and—"

"Esa es la cosa más estúpida que he oído jamás". (That is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.)

"I know..."

"Cariño, we will love you til the end."

"Thank you, baby... thank you to the three of you..."

"No hay problema, bebé. (No problem, baby.)

"Want me to fix you up?"

You nodded. "That would be wonderful..."

Hello! I hope you enjoyed this! I absolutely love writing Fluff so this was by far the most exciting story to work on!

Also, very sorry for not posting sooner I had a lot of exams so I didn't have time to post this story!

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loversdelusions · 7 months

Note

Hiya First I wanna say , I hope you get well soon and get plenty of rest 💗 and if request are open could I request Yandere kirishima (I love how you wrote him ) maybe nsfw HCs ? Could the reader be female if possible if not no worries 🐢(get well soon )

♥ Yandere Eijirou Kirishima ♥

|< Addiction >|

@ESORA_illust

Lust & Power: Dominance

He needs power. He loves it when you're helpless.

He's a little... Off. You can tell immediately by the way his eyes move.

The issue with Kiri is that he's so underhanded in his methods. He loves messing around with you when you're in public.

Man will never leave you alone. When the obsession started, it was a 'mistake'. When he accidentally bumped into you from behind, gripping your hips so tightly, and grinding against you.

It made his nerves burn when your skin bubbled with goosebumps, a shiver running through you with a slight arch to your back. It was instinctive, or better yet- the frightened look in your eyes when you'd turned to look at your assailant.

He likes to catch you off guard. Leave marks, to touch you when you can't make a sound, it gives him control he can't handle.

He likes when you're chubby, cause he thinks it's cute, also damn he loves to pinch you. Your skin is soft, and he loves to softly pinch your arm and cheeks.

He's not so soft when it comes to your more sensitive areas. He gets rough with you a lot, in public or otherwise. You won't even notice when his hands sneak beneath your skirt and pinch the inside of your thighs. the back of where your thighs meet the curve of your ass when you stand in front of him- He's always touching you.

God fuck it takes all his will not to take you to the train just so he can grope you, pinch your perfect tits and rip your underwear despite you gripping at him, inhaling in your "No" and "don't"

He loves the way you shiver, knowing you're exposed beneath the short skirt you chose to wear that day, the way you pulled at it when people walked by or emptied the space enough to notice.

Oh god, the fucking pleasure he gets from toying with you underneath your skirt, watching closely the people around, only to whisper to you while you held your breath just how much you're spilling down your thighs.

Yeah, he doesn't understand why you're mad when you get off the train. You guys aren't even together. Not to you, at least. He already knows you're his, so it really doesn't matter to him that you're fighting him on this, because really you have no real power here.

It won't take him long to drag you to a place he can have you.

He likes the visual stimulation of observing you. He'll lay out over his bed, or his table, or damn near anything you can lay on. Just so he can stare at your skin, the bruising on your thighs where his fingers pulled at you.

A long-winded way to say he's really into humiliation.

He loves words of affirmation, so god knows you will hear him groan the most vile things into your ear.

"How can you expect me to hold myself back when you're dressed like this?"

"Look at this, peaches." "You're so wet it's fucking hilarious. Let's not be modest here, your pussy is tellin' you the kinda slut you are."

"You can't decide to be fuckin clueless baby... Dressin' like that... Reacting, like this..."

"The way you walk like you want people to pull at your hips - the skirt. Why bother wearin' underwear at all, huh?"

If you resist he'll force you to listen to the way you swallow his fingers, to watch, and hear the noises that make you blush and cover your face.

He likes seeing that. That scared but determined look on your face as you fight humiliation. He will twist and grind and mould the story till it is you who is objectifying him, and how it was all to satisfy you. You. You.

He likes biting a lot. He leaves so many marks, red, purple and blue, he loves making your skin his own, showing you just how easily he bypasses your boundaries. No matter where you look you will realize, you belong to him.

I did say he was possessive.

Kiri l o v e s giving head. He just loves it. He likes eating you out so much it becomes practically painful, you might as well have to beg him to stop. He will use it to his own advantage too (but I might discuss it later.)

Not cause he vanilla or anything, but missionary, or any position where he can clearly gaze down at the marks he's left on your skin, is his preferred one.

He loves to use your body like it was not intended. Fucking your thighs, your tits, especially if he could watch the bruises grow with the rough handling, covering the others he's left before.

He's dominant, and demanding, arrogant during sex. He absolutely cannot be vulnerable during sex but likes it when you are willing and consensual.

He loves make-up sex.

As for punishment? Severe Sensory deprivation. SO MUCH OF IT. He loves watching the reaction when you can't see, mouth gagged and drooling, ears covered with strong noise cancelling headphones and tied the fuck up.

Yes, it's extreme, but the way you react to the surprise of being suddenly touched... Unrivalled.

You can't feel anything but the mattress, (he would suspend you in the air, but I think it'd be too much work for him lmao) you can't hear anything nor see, it's complete darkness and cold air against your flushed skin.

Until you feel his hot mouth, stark against the cold of your skin. Only for a moment until he disappears again. He'll wait until you are calm but anxious for his next touch, and then he'll start toying with you slowly, edging you until you can barely squirm any longer, cooling you down suddenly with temperature play, just to softly caress you, hot sloppy kisses on your cool skin, on your nipples...

You'll feel when he wants to fuck you.

Edging is his game, and he's good. Kiri will make sure by the time he's about to burst through his pants, you will be shivering with anticipation, making sure you won't last a minute.

then he'd start.

He likes it rough.

too bad for you, though.

He's a pro hero, after all, he will outlast you. This ends pretty usually, with your weak, sniveling, drooling self crying for him to stop.

I already told you he likes to use you as his ragdoll. He won't stop until he's done.

Then you'll be sitting in darkness, listening only to defeating silence and your heartbeat, feeling nothing but the ache, and fullness inside you.

Softer sides: Care & mental health.

He enjoys degradation sure, but he loves you still. He wakes in the morning and gazes at your body messed up with his little shark attacks, and he'll run his hands over your skin. Pull you to him softly and pepper you with kisses.

I think he realizes how demanding he gets. He's generally low on his empathy though he still understands what's wrong and right. Adhering to that is a choice. He feels a bit shitty, he wants to be the manly man you deserve.

He'll take his time to take care of you. Ice your bruises, touch his masterpieces... His art. He knows it's wrong.

He can't help the satisfaction he gets looking at your skin. You were so beautiful.

You're too exhausted to argue, to move. It always is after he's had his way with you. He'll carry your spent body to the tub and help clean you up. Trust me, this is the best ending you'll get because if you were being punished you'd be left tied up and sticky. He'd be too happy with himself seeing you dripping with his cum to untie and help.

Pictures will be taken. He's a bit narcissistic.

Either way, he'd make breakfast, feed you, wipe away your tears. Resist the temptation to play with you.

He'd whisper how amazing you were last night, how happy you made him, pull you into his arms, and cuddle you. Nuzzle into your neck, kiss you sweetly, remind you why you'd ever fallen into his hands.

His sweet side is too sweet. That's the problem. He buys you little gifts and pours you your tea, makes sure you have the first bite before he does, walks you home, and makes sure you're comfortable after everything.

Your favorite movies and TV shows will be played, your favorite food ordered, and your every whim played to. He'll let you take shots at him and kiss you afterward, baby you like you are the most wonderful thing in the world.

He always feels like you are the victim of his lust, even if it is mutual, so he'll treat you as if you have sacrificed yourself to him. It's annoying and endearing.

He'll spend the rest of the day making you laugh, picking you up and taking care of you, even if you tell him it's fine.

His Point Of View:

Kirishima thinks you are the sun and stars of his universe.

While he can get a bit rough, he isn't always like that.

He can be soft, and sweet. Press you softly against silk sheets he'd prepared specially for you, caress your skin like he was touching petals, hold you close like you were the reason he could breathe.

Especially for your first time, he'd inhale your scent, and melt. Kissing you desperately, fighting his ravenous instincts, and trying to remain soft with you.

You could feel his hands tense, squeeze, and relax, trying to hold himself back. He'd spend hours going down on you until you can't move anymore.

He does not like it when you give him oral. Unless he's drunk.

He wants to treat you like the beauty you are, and while the idea of seeing you on your knees makes him go wild, he can't bring himself to disrespect you in that way.

He can be super loving, protective, and sensitive. Yet, all of a sudden, he will begin to harass you. His face will remain the same, too. Kind eyes, soft smile, gentle words....While his hands grope at you.

You are his addiction. He drinks you in like an alcoholic.

A/N: Okay, so this may be a bit disjointed because I wrote this like months ago and then took a break from Tumblr. Still, I hope you guys enjoy this.

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imraespace · 6 months

Text

5: WHAT IS HAPPENING!!?

──────────────

No matter how many times you pass by that poster, it always caught your attention. Maybe the fact that there's others who share the same interests as you gets your attention but the work you have to do to befriend them, the thought alone scares you.

You sighed at the poster, looking around to see students walking by, glancing at the poster then carrying on to their daily activities. 'Maybe I should just go to class..' You thought to yourself.

But sadly, you were stopped.

"Y/N, right?"

The voice scared you obviously. You forcefully turned your head around to the sound and let out a small gasp when you saw none other than Yuuta Okkotsu in front of you.

"Yuuta.. I mean Hi! Oh I mean yes..? Yes I am Y/N.."

You weakly smiled, and started yelling at yourself in your head for sounding so dumb.

Yet he smiled nevertheless, not commenting or cringing at your words.

"Yes, it's me. I have something that I wanted to ask you actually." He replied, looking around you both.

You perked up at his request.

"Uhm.. sure what do you want to ask me..?" You quietly asked.

He took a deep breath then asked:

"Do you like anyone..?"

Huh.

You blinked at his words.

"Huh..?" You accidentally let out.

Before he could respond the person he was gonna ask about was actually here.

"Yuuta! I was looking for you!" His voiced boomed in your ears causing you to now look at him.

"Oh hi Y/N!" Yuji loudly said, causing you to look down at your feet.

'Why. Why are they two boys here speaking to me.' You thought to yourself.

"Hi.." You mumbled. Flustered at the fact that there's literally two boys talking to you for the first time in your life.

Yet Yuuta notices.

And he smiles.

Yuji notices that you both are infront of the poster for his club.

"Are you both planning on joining? Inumaki's the other leader, plus we only got like two persons in so far. More the merrier you know?" He spoke up.

The mention of the club caught your attention and both Yuuta and Yuji noticed.

"Oh? You really do want to join?" Yuji's face lit up.

It caused your cheeks to burn a bit as you covered your mouth to hide your big ass smile.

But it also caused you to stutter like crazy.

"I-" You stopped, trying to fix your words.

"Yeah I do want to join but it's just.." You slowly got softer.

"Just? It's okay I won't let anyone make you feel uncomfortable. You can make your own friends on your own time okay?" Yuji told you, easing your fears.

Now a genuine smile, not from embarrassment or flustered.

"Okay I can agree on that, thank you Itadori.." You mumbled.

He laughed a bit, rubbing behind his head.

"You can call Yuuta by his first name but not me? You can call me Yuji." He told you.

You forgot you said Yuuta's first name.

You blushed from embarrassment.

"I actually didn't mean to say that.." You mumbled.

It was too much for you.

Yuuta noticed.

"I didn't mind Y/N, you can go to class now I don't want you passing out here." Yuuta softly said.

You nodded at his words and quickly left the seen, leaving the boys there. "What is even happening right now.." You mumbled to yourself.

──────────────

MASTERLIST | <-PREVIOUS // NEXT->

TAGLIST: @milza12 @jayathelostdragon (OPEN)

──────────────

note: did I make y/n sound shy enough I based it off myself kinda(i talk to no one actually but i will probably stutter and smile alot)

😎

#yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #jjk yuuta #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuta jjk #yuta x you #yuuta jjk #jjk texts #jjk #yuuta texts #yuta texts #jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #imraespace -♡#imraeswork

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 2 months

Note

Ok, I just found your wonderful blog and can't help myself, I have to ask for a request TwT One of my too many ideas would be: HLC's reaction - professors included - to Mc's Excuse after MC was really mean in an argument. I have an almost-Slytherin-but-then-Hufflepuff-MC, so...xD If you would like to do that - pls feel free to make it as fluffy or serious as you like - it would make me "Happy as Fig"....yes, thank you a lot! <3

A/N: I feel this one on a personal level. Let's make it soft with MC saying sorry

HLC REACT TO MC APOLOGIZING AFTER A HEATED ARGUMENT

MC: They know there's no real excuse for what they said. They could give their reasons, prescriptive and feelings at the time of the argument but they can't un-say what left their mouth. They almost wished they knew how to use the memory charm. Then they might not be standing there awkwardly awaiting the judgment from their friends and professors.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He sighs. "If we haven't been through what we have up to this point, I wouldn't accept your apology. But...we've both said things we regret. No point in dwelling." He smiles and offers the seat next to him for them to join him for study. When they sit down, he whispers out the side of his mouth. "Now, if you want me to forget, on top of forgiving you, you'll help me with my most recent relic discovery."

OMINIS GAUNT: He's been rigidly silent since the argument. MC almost walks away before he finally speaks. "I'm tired, MC. I'm tired of people hurting me. While I understand that words are difficult when emotions run high, please, don't say things you don't mean." His entire world is transcribed in sound, so people's words mean more to him than most. MC's apology better be sincere if they hope to keep him as a friend.

ANNE SALLOW: MC's apology leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, no matter how sincere they are. She's heard these types of "I'm sorry" speeches from Sebastian and her uncle before. Do they really expect her to forget everything just because they feel bad? "I'll accept your apology, on the condition that you don't speak to me like that going forward. If a conversation becomes too heated, I think at best if we take a break and let cooler heads prevail."

IMELDA REYES: "Oh, you're sorry? Go boil your head." She practically spits at them as she returns to what she's doing. She doesn't forgive easily. She's burned too many bridges in her life to care about one more. At least, that's what she keeps trying to tell herself. What MC had said really hurt and she hates the fact that they have that sort of effect on her.

NATSAI ONAI: "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let my pride escalate things the way they did. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this position. It is big of you to apologize first. Thank you, my friend." She opens her arms for a hug. If MC isn't a hugger, she just gives them a smile.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He won't admit it to them, but he had screwed up more than one brew from accidentally crying into it. What they said really hurt and now that they were apologizing, he was struggling to keep it together. "No, I'm not- *sniff* crying. I got batwing fumes in my eyes. I....I just want us to be friends again, okay?"

LEANDER PREWETT: He didn't have much self esteem before he met MC, and now that his worst fears were confirmed by them berating him because he disagreed with them, he felt worse than ever. Hearing them apologize to him felt surreal. No one ever apologized to him. Somehow, he was always in the wrong. He feels more vulnerable than ever. "So...does this mean you don't hate me?"

AMIT THAKKAR: He stubbornly holds on to his frustration with MC. He KNOWS he's in the right. They were being unreasonable and resorted to insults out of egotistical retaliation. They surprise him when they come back. "I'll admit, I didn't think I'd see you again for a while. It takes a lot for someone to swallow their pride and admit they were wrong. Thank you, for apologizing."

EVERETT CLOPTON: He thought that was it. MC didn't want to be his friend anymore. He couldn't look them in the eye, even when they needed to tell him something important. He's stuck in his own head until he hears them say the words "I'm sorry." He snaps out of it and stares wide eyed at them. "Really? You mean it? This isn't...you're not messing with me, are you?" He needs some reassurance, but afterwards he'll forgive it easily.

POPPY SWEETING: "Well look who came crawling back." Her eyes are full of malice. This won't be an easy apology. As soft spoken as she is, her heart is hardened to people who've wronged her. It's her defense mechanism. MC will have to do more than say, they'll have to prove it.

~~~

MC's got a lot of gall to think arguing with their professors was a good idea.

ELEAZAR FIG: He knows them better than anyone else in the school. They'd come around, they just needed space. He hadn't punished them for what they said. He smiles warmly when they come back and puts a hand on their shoulder. "It takes a lot of courage to admit you're wrong. Thank you, for showing how much you've grown and matured. I know plenty of adults who wouldn't do what you've just done. They would double down, if anything else. I'm proud of you."

MATILDA WEASLEY: She had taken SO many house points. No one argues with the deputy headmistress and gets away with it unscathed. "It isn't to me you should apologize. I'm sure your housemates aren't too pleased to hear that they are now in dead last because of you. Better get to work earning those back."

CHIYO KOGAWA: "Nothing like manual labor to bring out the regret of one's actions." She had them organizing and repairing the quidditch supplies without magic. "Thank you for apologizing, now get back to it. The quidditch season may have been canceled this year, but it needs to be ready for the next."

AESOP SHARP: He gives them an indeterminate reply to their apology, but, deep down, he's impressed. While they had certainly gone too far with their argument, they apologized for making it personal. He can relate to being so passionate about something that you're willing to defend it, tooth and nail. That didn't stop him from taking house points and giving them detention. They were stuck organizing and counting the alchemy supplies.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He hadn't taken house points or given detention. While what they said was certainly disrespectful, he did not believe that the lashing of adolescence should be so strongly punished. They were clearly passionate about their argument. He only wished he could understand their point of view better. He's proud of them for apologizing and rewards them with house points.

MIRABEL GARLICK: As much as she tries to keep her teaching environment positive, she will not stand for disrespectful behavior. She takes house points and dismisses MC before she gives them detention. Her heart melts when MC returns looking so sorrowful and full of regret. She forgives everything and is willing to let bygones be bygones, just don't let it happen again.

MUDIWA ONAI: MC's boldness doesn't surprise her. As long as it was just the two of them, she was willing to let everything slide. If MC had tried doing that in front of students, she would have to make an example of them. She doesn't take house points or gives detention, merely expresses her disappointment. It must have done the trick, because MC almost immediately apologized.

BAI HOWIN: MC must have been aching to muck out the beast pens by hand, speaking to her in such a way, because that's exactly what they got. Three consecutive days of detention just to clean every single beast pen. She nods curtly when they apologize.

DINAH HECAT: She isn't phased in the slightest by MC's outburst, but her eyes tell MC they have gone too far. There's a darkness in them warning MC to back down before she puts them down. "I suggest you get to your next lesson, MC. Wouldn't want you to get lost. Hogwarts is as unforgiving as it is beautiful to those who exploit it's patience." She walks away, not particularly accepting or denying any apology.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He was taken aback by MC so fervently accosting him. He had never been spoken to in such a way by a student in life or in death. He wasn't really sure how to handle it. He gives them a nod when they eventually apologize. "Very good then. Now...in 1252, the goblins-"

SATYAVATI SHAH: She gave detention. That's where MC surprised her with their sincere apology. She narrows her eyes, searching for any sign of weakness. They passed. "I'm sure you've seen the error of your ways, but you still have to finish polishing all of the telescopes by hand."

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: They're lucky they weren't expelled for what they said. He haughtily huffs and shoos them away like they're an annoying gnat. "Your detentions start tonight. I suggest you get going." He did have slight satisfaction that they were apologetic, but that was likely only because they had detention every night for the rest of the year.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #eleazar fig #matilda weasley #aesop sharp

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moonlightspencie · 10 months

Text

isn’t it?

Description: Years after the battle at Hogwarts, reader runs into an unlikely old friend. A simple invitation to tea leads to much more.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, slow burn babyyy, draco talking about traumatic events in the hp series, me being an american writing about folks in the UK (do not come for me),

Word Count: 10k

A/N: im a draco apologist, what about it. anyways, he gets a redemption arc in this. they’re like 20-23 in this. also had to make my own gif cause most malfoy girlies are 14 year olds from tiktok & don’t appreciate tom in his 20s. logging off forever now

check out the playlist!

Winter was one of my least favorite times of the year because of how horrifically frigid it got. I was never a fan of the cold months. At least not when it was so cold that my fingers would be numb from standing outside for a couple of minutes.

But, it could also one of my most favorite times for the days like this one.

I stepped into the bookstore, glancing around in the soft lighting at all of the cheery decor. They hadn’t yet taken down their Christmas decorations, so twinkling lights were still wrapped around the bookshelves. Snow fell gently outside, making the warmth inside that much more cozy.

I walked around the small shop, looking up and down various shelves until I found the section I was looking for. I started sorting through the various history books, picking out a few that piqued my interest. I slid down a little further, stopping only when I saw that I was encroaching on a stranger’s space.

I turned my head, making sure I hadn’t already gotten too close, when I saw a familiar, bright, blonde head of hair.

“Malfoy,” I breathed out.

His head turned quickly, wide eyes searching for the person who had accidentally called his name. They somehow widened even more when he recognized me and muttered my name, more to himself rather than as a greeting. I found myself walking towards him almost on instinct.

The last time we’d seen each other was years prior. His father had called his name from across the ruins of Hogwarts to join them. He’d stood still and unmoving, up until the point his mother’s voice finally convinced him. He glanced at me briefly before he walked away from the rest of us, and I had assumed I’d never see him again.

We always had a complicated relationship. Even more, it seemed Draco had very complicated feelings about me.

We were friends, for all intents and purposes, but it was a secretive kind of friendship. He was a Slytherin, from a very prejudiced family, and was quite frankly a bully much of the time. I was a Gryffindor, friends with Potter, and though I was a half-blood, I didn’t care for the idea that blood purity had any say in the value of a wizard. That had caused some tension early in our friendship before I knocked a little sense into him. Though, it still caused some problems for us. Especially after his parents heartily disapproved of me in our fifth year.

We’d been friends for nearly a year at that point. He had, rather foolishly, decided to introduce me to his parents over holiday, assuming they would also be willing to love me despite my disdain for blood-purity ideals. We’d left in uncomfortable silence, and, soon after, Draco had explained that his father had instructed him to stay away from me.

Of course, he hadn’t listened.

We still spent time together when we could, even when I’d begun to notice his increasingly tired eyes and gaunt state of being in sixth year. He never let me find out what the matter was until it was too late, however.

I hadn’t seen him after the night Dumbledore was killed until the battle at Hogwarts. Now, I was seeing him in a bookshop in London. A muggle bookshop.

“What…” I started, unsure what to say now. “Wow. It’s good to see you.”

He was silent, staring back at me in shock.

“I’m sorry, um, how’ve you been?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve, uh— Fine. I’m fine.”

“What are you doing here? In London, I mean?”

“Searching for something to read,” he said, the ghost of a chuckle leaving him.

“In a muggle shop?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I know, it’s probably strange to see me here.”

“It’s strange to see you anywhere. It’s been…”

“… A long time.”

I nodded in agreement. He looked down at the books in my hands.

“I see you’re still interested in muggle affairs.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking at my books. “After leaving Hogwarts I wasn’t really interested in becoming an auror anymore, so I started writing. I do a lot of writing for wizards interested in muggle history. I generally write a lot of magazine pieces, and I’m working on a book now.”

“Wow,” he said with brows raised. “That’s incredible.”

“Thanks. Are you doing anything… I don’t know. Like, for a job?”

“No. That was never really on the table for me, anyways, with my family’s—“ he sighed. “You know. All of that.”

“Right,” I nodded with half a smile. He’d always been raised with the idea that he’d be living off of the generational wealth. “What are you looking at here?”

“I still need hobbies, so I’ve taken up a lot of reading. Muggle fiction books have been particularly interesting to me lately.”

“Huh. Never expected that to come out of your mouth.”

He raised his brows quickly, nodding along slowly. He looked back to the book in his hands.

“They tend to think that witches are evil, mythical creatures. They also don’t believe that giants or dragons or werewolves exist. They’re all viewed as freaks to the muggles,” he said, looking back at me. “Most of the time, we’re all seen as the villain in their stories.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone sees things differently. Usually the hatred comes in when they don’t care to learn about people who aren’t like them.”

He swallowed, looking down once again.

“I’m beginning to realize that much more, now.”

We both went quiet for a few seconds as a question was formulating in my head.

“Would you like to come over to mine for some tea?”

His eyes snapped to mine. He furrowed his brow, obviously not expecting the invitation.

“Really?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

He just stood there, unmoving like I was going to burst out laughing at him at any moment. He watched me with wary eyes, not responding.

“If you want to,” I added at last. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Uh, that would be nice. Yes.”

“Okay. Um, I’m going to go buy these now.”

I held up my books, then turned for the register. I finished after a few minutes, lingering near the door until he followed after with his own bag.

“So, where you do you live?” he asked as we walked out into the cold.

“Guildford. In Surrey.”

“How do you usually—“

“Take my hand,” I said, holding out my free hand.

He switched his bag over to the opposite hand, putting his cold one in mine. In a flash we were on my street. He looked up at the street lamps that were starting to turn on as the sky dimmed slowly. I let him take in his surroundings for a moment.

“Ready?” I asked after a beat.

He looked at me, snow sticking to his eyelashes.

“Ready,” he confirmed.

We started forward on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of my building.

“Are you still in Wiltshire with your parents?”

He nodded. “Yes. Though, I don’t see them much anymore. I’m usually out for most of the day if I can help it.”

“You don’t get along much anymore?”

He shrugged. “They disagree with a lot of my choices.”

“I see.”

We stepped into the foyer of my building, walking up to the third floor and wandering through the hall until we got to the door of my flat. I suddenly turned, his brows raising slightly as I looked at him.

“I feel like I need to tell you that I don’t live anywhere particularly… Special.”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged.

I nodded, a small smile on my face as I unlocked the door.

It felt strange to have anyone in my flat, let alone someone I hadn’t seen for years after they’d betrayed my friends and myself. Usually, I only had over a few very close friends every few weeks. I wasn’t exactly prepared for company, and I felt that it showed as I pulled down two mismatched mugs. He lingered in the kitchen with me, looking entirely uncomfortable, his hands repeatedly clenching and releasing as if it would relieve whatever anxieties he was facing. I gave him a soft smile after setting the mugs on the counter near him.

“This cabinet here,” I started, pointing at the one next to the oven, “has all the teas. You can choose whichever one you’d like.”

He nodded, moving forward towards the cabinet as I filled the kettle with water. I set it on the stovetop, turning it on. He nervously looked through the various tea flavors for a few more seconds, then turned to me.

“Which one would you like?”

I looked at him, noticing that he hadn’t picked for himself yet.

“Are you asking in earnest, or do you need a recommendation?”

His cheeks flushed slightly as he gave me a small smile.

“Both.”

“I’d love an earl grey. I’ve got one that has some lavender in it as well, and it is delightful.”

He nodded quickly, pulling down two tea bags.

“That sounds nice.”

I smiled to myself, a little out of sorts at how polite he’d become. We waited in a strange kind of silence until I heard the water beginning to bubble in the kettle. I pulled it off the heat, filling the mugs Draco had popped the bags into earlier. He looked at me curiously.

“You know,” he began, pulling my attention to his amused face, “you’re supposed to wait until the kettle whistles.”

I shrugged. “I prefer to get to it before it starts up. I’m almost never too busy to have to listen to that horrible whistling.”

He laughed softly, nodding his head in understanding. I led him to the small table in my kitchen, and much to my surprise, he took the seat next to me rather than across the way. It was quiet for a minute or two, neither of us really sure what we were doing in my kitchen together.

“Can I ask something?” he blurted out.

“Sure,” I replied with a nod.

“Why did you invite me here?”

I shrugged. “I thought it might be nice to talk. It’s been a long time.”

“But I haven’t spoken to you since… You know. What’s the use in trying to talk to me now?”

“You agreed, didn’t you?”

He smirked, but it was a more gentle kind than what he would usually pull back in the day. Not full of cocky disdain for others, and more a way to tell me that I’d bested him with the simple phrase. It was nice.

We sat quietly for a few more minutes, each sipping our tea. I suddenly realized, only after inviting him into my home, that I had no clue what to talk to him about. I let out a soft breath, looking at him to find him already looking in my direction. I gave him a soft smile that he returned. Though, it quickly fell, and the both of us tilted our heads down again.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, “for leaving that day. When my mother called me over.”

I looked at him in surprise, staring up from my teacup.

He continued, “I should’ve stayed with you. With all of you. I was just in so deep at that point, and I couldn’t say no to her. And I know that isn’t an excuse, but I didn’t know what to do anymore. I was sure that the second something went sideways again, after all that I’d done, I would probably be the first one to die. I don’t know why nobody killed me in the meantime before V-Voldemort and the others came back with Potter.”

“Where did you go? After the room of requirement was set on fire?”

“I hid,” he mumbled, looking down at his tea. “I’ve always been a coward. I think I’ve deserved everything that’s happened to me after all of that.”

We sat after that, sipping our tea like nothing had been said to begin with. I looked back at him. He’d changed so much in the few years he’d been gone, and yet he was so different. He looked practically the same. Maybe a little healthier. He acted like a new person, though. All of that youthful bravado was gone, and what was left was quiet and remorseful and entirely not like the Draco I’d known in school. It shocked me more and more the longer we sat.

I sighed softly. “Draco?”

He looked at me with wide eyes.

“You haven’t called me that in forever.”

“I haven’t seen you in as long.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

I took in a breath, watching him a few seconds longer before I spoke.

“You know it’s never too late to change things, right? I know that you and your mother both made some decisions we never would’ve expected you to at the end, there. Harry told me.”

“That means nothing. I’ve always despised Potter. I was cruel to him every day, but he still saved my life. You all fought. You were all brave. Not giving him up one time was nothing compared to what all of the rest of you did.”

“You can still change things now, Draco.”

He shook his head.

“It’ll never be enough. I walked away from all of you when we thought Potter had died. I know you saw me doing it, too, and I know you were disappointed in me for it. Probably hated me,” he said, a humorless chuckle leaving him for a moment. “You were standing there by Granger and Weasley, and I looked at you right before I started across the courtyard, and you were already looking back at me. Looked like you could’ve killed me yourself.”

I swallowed, not taking my eyes off of him the entire time he spoke.

“I wanted better for you. I’d always hoped you would really, sincerely change for the better at some point, and it just never seemed to come,” I mentioned with a half-hearted shrug. “When I saw you walking out just in front of Luna, I hoped it meant you would stay with us. That you’d changed sides after Harry had gotten you out of the fire. Watching you leave after that…”

“I know. I’m shocked you even spoke to me in the bookshop.”

“I was shocked to see you at all. Especially in a muggle bookstore. I know you’d gotten off the hook after the war because of what you did for Harry, but honestly, I never thought you’d change. Not really, anyways.”

He nodded, looking away from me again. He only glanced back up once I continued speaking.

“But you have, now. That much is clear. You’re kinder now.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You agreed to have tea with me. You willingly had a conversation with me in that bookstore rather than walking away from me. I thought for sure that you would when I saw you there.”

He shook his head. “I might have if it was anyone else. I wouldn’t do that to you, though. You were the only person who was kind to me in school. You’re the only one who really cared or noticed something was wrong in sixth year.”

“Do you really not see it?” I asked, laughing incredulously.

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“You never would have told me any of this before. Draco, I know that you had done some horrible things, but it’s not too late to be different. And you’re already so different.”

He merely stared for a moment or two.

“I think I should go,” he said quietly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He stood abruptly, walking off towards the kitchen door. I followed after him, just barely reaching him as we reached my entry way. I reached out, grabbing his wrist. His eyes were wide as he turned his head towards me, casting his gaze towards where my hand held him from going any further.

“Just…” I sighed, putting on a smile. “Don’t be afraid to send an owl sometime.”

He nodded, his voice small, “Okay.”

I finally let him go, watching him take his coat and bag of of books, and walk out the door.

A few weeks later I sat at my desk at home, unable to get past a terrible bout of writer’s block. I hadn’t considered when writing a book that it wasn’t simply writing a long article. I had to craft each chapter in a meaningful way, and unfortunately, that meant that I had to get anything at all on paper. I sighed hard, needing an outlet for my dramatics. Suddenly, an unfamiliar owl was at my window. I opened it up, and the owl dropped a letter right on my window, staring almost curiously at me.

You requested that I send an owl sometime. I hope that you meant it, otherwise you can feel free to ignore this letter. Assuming you did mean it, I’d like to invite you to lunch on the thirteenth of February. I hope you’re well.

Draco

I looked up at the owl on my windowsill.

“Just a moment,” I said to it.

It chirped lightly in response. I quickly picked up some new parchment and a quill, scribbling out a response before I folded it and put it in an envelope. I reached into my bottom desk drawer, giving the owl a treat before handing off the letter.

“Thank you. Go home, now.”

The owl flew off into the sky, leaving me with a smile and an even emptier brain.

The date he’d suggested was less than a week out from when he’d sent his letter, and it arrived much sooner than I was expecting. He’d sent another letter soon after mine had arrived, telling me the time and location, and soon enough I was pulling on my shoes in order to leave.

I showed up outside of the café. Surprisingly, another muggle location. I walked inside, being greeted by a hostess.

“Hi, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, um…”

“She’s with me,” Draco said, coming up near the hostess stand.

I smiled at him gratefully, my demeanor obviously edging on discomfort. He led me back to our table, pulling out my seat for me.

“Thank you,” I said, scooting in a little closer. “So, why this place?”

“Easier to make reservations and avoid judgements eating at muggle restaurants. They’re not exactly familiar with the Malfoy name.”

“Ah,” I nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. Well, it’s nice here.”

“It is. They have great soup.”

I laughed, looking down at the menu.

“What?” he asked with a smile.

“It’s just weird. Being here with you, and… talking about soup.”

“We could talk about sandwiches if you’d like.”

I laughed again, finding him doing the same. The afternoon ended up delightfully strange. We finished our food, and found ourselves on a walk around town, chatting about what we’d been doing in the years since we’d last seen one another.

In the final moments, I’d convinced him to visit another bookstore with me the following week.

It started to become a bit of a habit, really. We’d keep finding new places to bring one another to, and, for me, new excuses to keep seeing him. I didn’t necessarily have feelings for him, but I couldn’t deny that I found myself enjoying his company much more than I had as a teenager.

One chilly night in March, I’d come home from dinner with a friend absolutely wiped. I was more than ready to head off to bed after sitting around on my couch for a rerun of an old favorite show.

Though, halfway through the episode, there was a knock on my door. I walked over the front door, wand in hand as I wasn’t expecting any visitors at night. I looked through the peephole, hiding away the wand when I recognized the face outside the door. I opened it right afterwards.

“Hey,” he greeted, standing just outside my door.

My brows raised on instinct as he looked a little inebriated.

“Hi,” I said mindlessly. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down to the floor, shrugging a little. He rubbed at his face before he looked back at me.

“I might’ve been at the pub down the street. I thought about you there,” he swallowed. “Thought it might be nice to see you.”

“Do you want to come in?”

He nodded silently, stepping past me into my apartment. I shut and locked the door, turning to see him looking around the space. He looked back at me after a moment, a confused pout coming across his face as his eyes dropped to my outfit.

“Were you busy?”

I shook my head. “No, I just got home a bit ago.”

“Where’d you go?” he asked, toeing his shoes off to leave them near mine.

“Got dinner with Luna Lovegood.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “She still… Herself?”

“Draco,” I scolded.

“Sorry.”

I helped him take his coat off as he started struggling with the sleeves.

“Luna’s still an absolute sweetheart, as she’s always been,” I mentioned as I draped his jacket on a coat hook.

He wore a sage green sweater under the jacket, and it brought the slightest smile to my face that he still preferred his house colors when he wasn’t decked out in all black. He started wandering into my flat, looking around the living room.

“I like your home,” he said at last.

“Thank you,” I replied with a small laugh. “I’m going to go get you some water. Probably some ibuprofen too. It might help prevent a massive headache tomorrow.”

He nodded, not quite paying attention as he started walking around again. Once I gathered the cup of water and the medicine, I was at a loss. He’d escaped the living room. I walked around, checking the bathroom first, before finding my bedroom lamp on. I stepped into the room, finding him plopped down on my bed. This time, I couldn’t help but laugh fully.

He lifted his head with a quirked brow.

“What?”

“You. Laying there like you’ve just had your very first drink.”

“You’ve got a comfortable bed.”

“I’m aware,” I nodded, kneeling on the mattress next to him. “Come and drink some water, now.”

He sat up with a groan, accepting the ibuprofen and the cup from me. He drank down the water quickly, letting out a sigh as he handed back the empty cup.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, dropping back down.

He was quiet for a few seconds as I set down the empty cup on my nightstand, just staring at the ceiling.

“Is it okay that I came here?”

I furrowed my brow, laying on my back next to him.

“I’m happy you showed up here rather than going and causing trouble someplace else.”

“You’ve always been a good person,” he said with a sigh. “Why were you ever friends with me? I was awful.”

“Seemed like you needed someone good in your life. You were surrounded by some truly terrible people,” I mentioned with a chuckle. “When we ended up seated next to one another in potions and you actually laughed at jokes I made that weren’t at the expense of another person, I realized you might not be totally hopeless.”

He laughed. No— he giggled, covering his face with his hands.

“You know, my other friends hated you,” he said, voice muffled.

I reached over, pulling his hands away from his face. He smiled softly as I did, watching me as he continued talking.

“They all thought I went crazy for being friends with you. Blaise told me I was going to get kicked out of Slytherin if I kept it up, and Parkinson was really upset because she wasn’t the only girl around me anymore.”

“I always thought she had a crush on you.”

He hummed. “Yeah, I think so. It was kind of annoying, to be honest. At first I liked the attention, but it got old very quickly.”

“I can imagine.”

“You know what I always thought?”

I shrugged. “No clue.”

“I thought for forever that Potter had it bad for you. Up until he started crushing on the Weasley girl, I was convinced.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, looking back at the ceiling. “Either him or Longbottom. They were always around you.”

“Because we were friends,” I said with a laugh. “I still see them sometimes, you know?”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I haven’t seen my school friends since, well, everything happened.”

“You’ve seen me, at least.”

He smiled a little.

“That’s true. Nobody else, though. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“I think it probably is.”

A silence fell over us for a few moments. I stared at the sheets in between us, brushing my fingers across them.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked, voice just above a whisper.

“Why would I be cruel?”

He sighed dejectedly. “I deserve it. I was— I’ve done terrible things.”

I sighed softly. “I know what you’ve done, Draco. I was kind of there for much of it.”

A smile tugged at his lips, though he shoved it away just as quickly as it appeared.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know,” he said at last. “You wouldn’t stick around if you did.”

“I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

I fell silent again for a minute or so, milling over what to say next in my head. I heard him let out a soft breath, and turned my eyes to watch him. His hair was messier than usual, with his natural waves sneaking their way out of the gelled constraints they were usually stuck in. His skin glowed in the soft lighting of my bedroom, especially now that the constant dark circles he’d worn for the past few years were gradually fading away with time.

He called my name in question. I hummed in response, turning my body to face him, listening as he started speaking again.

“I just,” he sighed, taking a moment. “I wonder if things would’ve been different if I told you back then. Or anyone.”

“It might have changed things a little, but at that point, do you think you would’ve been able to avoid what you had to do?”

He shook his head. “No. It just might have been nice for someone to know.“

“I think you would be too stubborn to tell anyone, though,” I said with half a smile.

He smiled back, looking down at the mattress as he nodded.

“I definitely would’ve been. That’s part of the reason I never told you in the first place.”

I raised a brow. “What was the other part?”

He swallowed, looking at me again.

“I was worried you might put yourself in danger.”

“How?”

He snorted a laugh. “If you think I was stubborn, you have got to know that you were much worse. You probably would’ve tried helping me at the worst possible moment and gotten yourself killed.”

I scoffed. “I’m not that dumb.”

“You could act like it sometimes.”

My eyes widened as he hid a smile.

“Oh, so you do still like to make fun of me, huh?”

“Old habits are hard to beat.”

“You still secretly like dancing?”

His smile fell a bit as he thought it over.

“I haven’t really had a reason to since… Everything.”

Whatever came over me in that moment to drive my actions could possibly be instinct to comfort an old friend. It could’ve been the need to reach out to someone clearly in pain. It could’ve just been that I wanted to touch him. I scooted closer, resting my head on his chest. My hand rested on his stomach, and I felt him sigh softly through it. He didn’t say anything, but I did feel him go a bit rigid.

I lifted my head up when I noticed the stiffness in his body.

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first,” I rushed out, “Is this okay?”

His cheeks turned slowly pink as he stared back at me, nodding.

“I, um,” he let out a quick breath, “Yes. I just don’t really ever—“

Understanding dawned on me. “Oh. Well, it’s just like a hug.”

He stared back once again, unmoving for a few moments. I furrowed my brow in question as he looked away from my face.

“The only person, um, who ever really hugs me is… mum.”

I watched him quietly, unsure what to say. It had always been evident that he never had a shot at a normal childhood, but I hadn’t considered how much of that normalcy was completely stripped from his life. He closed his eyes.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he said quietly. “That’s so humiliating.”

“No, no,” I said, brushing some of his hair from his face before quickly pulling away. “Not at all. That isn’t your fault.”

“If I wasn’t such a horrible child…”

“It may have helped to make real friends, but you were raised in an echo chamber of hatred. For the longest time you didn’t know how to be anything but mean. Clearly, if your own father didn’t even hug you as a child.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly.

“Plus,” I added, “things are so different now. I saw you starting to change a little back then. I wasn’t the only one to notice either, you should’ve seen my friends’ faces when you smiled at me in passing on the way to classes the first time. Since then, things have changed tenfold. Why not lean into that?”

He nodded again, giving me the faintest smile imaginable. I settled back against his chest, finally feeling his arms carefully wrapping around me. They just barely rested over top of me, not dissimilar to how an adult would try to hug a toddler. I let one arm stretch across his torso, holding him tightly, and, eventually, he held me just as tight.

I opened my eyes to sun-washed sheets, and a breathing pillow under my head. I tilted my head up, seeing him still absolutely passed out. His breathing came soft and steady, and he looked utterly at peace. I only looked away from his sleeping form when he started stirring. He let out a soft little groan, his arms tightening around me slightly. Only after he gave a sigh did I have the nerve to look back at his face.

“Good morning,” I said.

He smiled softly. “Morning. M’sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind,” I looked down at our clothes. “Just a bit unfortunate we fell asleep in these clothes. Not the most comfortable.”

He laughed. “Yes. Maybe next time it would be better not to be wearing trousers. I think I’d personally prefer some flannel pajamas.”

“I’m partial to sleep shorts.”

He let out another small laugh, as did I. His cheeks were tinged pink as he looked back at me, though I can’t say I didn’t feel the heat rising in my face as well.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged lightly. “Surprisingly fine. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“Any time, Malfoy.”

I reluctantly pulled myself out of his arms, sitting up in the bed. I stretched out my arms above my head, then turned to him once again to announce I’d be back in a moment. I found myself doing my usual bathroom duties in a kind of haze. There was a smile stuck to my face that I couldn’t quite get rid of. I chose not to look into it too much, especially as I reentered the bedroom to find him rubbing at his sleep-ridden eyes.

“There’s an extra toothbrush I left in the bathroom for you. It should be the yellow one next to mine,” I mentioned.

He gave me a small smile, nodding his head.

“Thanks.”

I hummed in response. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Tea and toast sound okay?”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, standing up.

I merely raised a brow at him as he drew closer. He silently conceded, following me out of the bedroom in order for each of us to get to what we needed to. I filled the kettle, put the bread in the toaster, and somehow managed to spill my entire cup of water all over the floor after setting out the mugs. I grumbled to myself, getting down with a towel to clean up my mess.

“Clumsy one, aren’t you?” he asked with a laugh as he found me crouched down on the floor.

I looked up to where he stood near the sink, feigning annoyance at his cheery state. I stood up, crossing over to wring the towel out.

“Wait,” he exclaimed, though too late.

I stepped forward, not seeing the bit of spilled water I hadn’t cleaned up. I slipped and, in an attempt not to tumble to the floor, grabbed onto his arms. He laughed at me as I regained my balance, earning him a furrowed brow and a hidden smile of my own.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“It was funny,” he defended. “You should’ve seen your face.”

I squeezed his forearms briefly before beginning to drop my hands. Though, the way his face dropped as I did so kept me from completely breaking contact.

“Are you okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah, I’m— It’s fine.”

I quirked a brow, unbelieving.

“I’m not buying that. What’s wrong?”

He looked down, his eyes quickly darting to where my hand was placed on his left arm. I took in a breath.

“Oh,” I said quietly. “Do you… It’s still there, isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

I firmed my hold on his arms again, gently rubbing my thumbs against the fabric of his sweater.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s my own fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I’ve never thought about the fact you’d always have to hide it.”

He breathed out slowly, shakily, still looking down.

“Is there any way to rid yourself of it?” I asked after a beat.

“No,” he shook his head. “There are some charms I can use temporarily to hide it if I need to, but nothing permanent works. It’s forever.”

I nodded, looking back at his face until he met my eye. He cleared his throat, pulling his arms from out of my grasp.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“I’m used to it. I haven’t forgotten your little attitude every time you spotted me with Harry or one of the others.”

I reached down to grab the towel I had dropped.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I couldn’t help it. You were so likable, and they were just...”

“My friends. So watch it, Malfoy,” I scolded with a smirk.

“Right,” he nodded, fighting a smile himself. “Everyone has their flaws.”

I scoffed out a laugh, lightly slapping his shoulder with the back of my hand. He laughed, leaning against the counter.

“Right then, you can pour your own tea,” I noted as I wrung out the towel.

“You’ll still get the toast though?”

I furrowed my brow as I tossed the towel down, turning to him.

“Only because you don’t know where I keep the plates or else you’d be on your own.”

He gave me a knowing smirk, taking the kettle just before it began whistling to fill both of our mugs. I took down the plates, setting the toast on each of them before getting the butter and jam set out. We set to work, side by side, on preparing our breakfast. It felt oddly normally as we went about our business, putting everything away before we sat at the kitchen table.

We found ourselves laughing over nothing in particular before we knew it, and, eventually, it was dark outside once again. The surprise on his face told me all that I needed to know as he looked out the window and declared that he should probably be going on his way. I walked him to the door, watching as he gathered his things again, and as he apparated away.

Our owls were sent back and forth over the next few weeks, and though we saw each other frequently, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander on the days we didn’t have much communication. Frankly, it wandered a great deal even when we were together. Usually to his eyes. The way he’d look at me when we’d stop talking. Or the way he’d smile when we did some silly activity together. Or his laugh when I’d make a stupid jokes. Or his hands.

May came quickly, and with it came warmer weather. It was nice to have my windows open whenever it wasn’t raining, and it was absolutely wonderful to have lakeside picnics or nighttime strolls through the nearby park as the month bled into June. Those little outdoor escapades started to become a habit. A way of being out in the world together with nobody else around.

Not that alone time was necessarily important to us. It certainly didn’t make my cheeks flush with heat every time we sat completely by ourselves on a picnic blanket with favorite snacks of mine that he’d somehow remembered and brought along when he showed up at my door. I most definitely hadn’t made a habit to lie to myself about the entire ordeal.

“Walk?” he asked after we’d finished playing a game of wizard chess.

I nodded. “Of course. It’s a gorgeous night, we may as well enjoy it, right?”

He smiled, standing and taking my hands to help me off the ground near my coffee table. We pulled on our shoes, and headed out. It was warm, and the most gentle breeze went through the new leaves on the trees as we passed them. He made silly conversation with me as we kept on, so much so that we’d lost track of the time. I could only tell it had been a while when my legs started growing a bit tired.

We sat on a bench nearby after our walk through the park, relishing in the warm night air of the summertime.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight,” I commented.

He hummed in agreement.

“It does,” he said, suddenly putting on a small smile. “That’s one benefit to me staying out all hours of the night with you.”

I laughed. “Oh dear. You may just have to stay over again. How horrible. It’s not like you can apparate home at any moment.”

“This is your fault, you know? You just have to live so far away,” he said in feigned annoyance, ignoring the last sentence I’d spoken. “Maybe I should just make friends elsewhere.”

“Yet, you still accept every time I suggest some kind of activity for us to do rather than finding new friends. Why’s that?”

“You’re… Different,” he whispered, like it was some miraculous secret.

“How?”

He sighed softly. “People back home, what I grew up with— It’s nothing like this. Everyone is cold. They all care so much about the wrong things.”

“You think I care about the right things?”

He smiled softly. “You care about me. That’s enough.”

“Who would’ve guessed Malfoy would become such a softie,” I mentioned with a smirk. “Oh, how things change.”

“Some things don’t,” he said with a shrug. “You still somehow choose to be my friend.”

“All that childhood bullying and teenage depression captivated me.”

He furrowed his brows, an unbelieving laugh passing his lips. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking around at the park as it was washed in moonlight. I felt his fingers brush against my hand, and I willingly opened my palm to him. He slid his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Look up,” he said quietly, and I obliged. He pointed up at the stars in the clear sky. “There’s a constellation there. Just between the… It’s right by ursa major, the plough constellation.”

“Mhm,” I hummed along.

“Right along here,” he traced a line of stars in my vision. “Do you know what that constellation is called?”

“Can’t say that I do, no.”

“Draco. It was called that because it kind of resembles a dragon. I don’t know for sure if my parents named me because of the constellation, but I like to think so.”

I smiled, glancing at him rather than the stars. He looked at peace as he stared up into the sky, his thumb gently rubbing against my hand. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye after a minute, at which point I looked back into the night. The stars really were beautiful that night. They looked brighter than normal, and the constellation patters I did recognize were easy to spot. Now, there was a new one I wouldn’t soon forget.

I heard him sigh next to me after a few minutes, and turned my head slightly to find he was already looking at me. This time, neither of us looked away.

“You’re my best friend,” he said, almost too quietly to hear.

Unsure of what to say in that moment, and wanting to do more than offer a smile, I leaned my head against his shoulder. He let out another soft breath, dropping his head against mine. I brought our connected hands up, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his.

“When was the last time you were in Hogsmeade?” I asked quietly.

He gave a soft chuckle to that.

We walked down the street the next day in the afternoon, everything looking quite different now that the weather was quite warm.

“It’s strange not being here in the wintertime,” I noted.

He nodded. “It is. I haven’t been in years.”

We walked up to a familiar building, and I reached out to him. I grabbed his hand, pulling him into the pub. We were offered a seat, but not before receiving several stares.

“You might not want to be holding my hand in front of everyone here,” Draco leaned in to whisper.

“I’m not terribly worried about being seen with you, you know?” I whispered back in reply. “Anyone who knows me is already aware that we used to be friends.”

We sat at the table, placed our orders, and were left alone once again. He let out a breath, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Seriously, don’t worry about all of them,” I said, leaning on the table. “Half of everyone in here were secretly on the wrong side anyways. They just fly under the radar because they don’t come from a powerful family.”

“Still. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“You aren’t. Besides, I’m used to people judging me for being around you.”

He deadpanned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“My point is that I don’t care about being seen with you. Okay?”

He swallowed, sighing softly.

“You make it terribly difficult to try and protect you.”

“Probably because I don’t need to be protected. Stop worrying about me so much,” I stated with a laugh.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, a small smirk on his face.

Our drinks were brought to the table, along with some assorted appetizers.

“Just don’t tell your parents that we’re friends this time,” I joked, hoping that wouldn’t strike a chord.

He snorted. “I already have.”

I straightened in surprise, looking at him with curious eyes. He glanced at me, a partial smile on his face when he saw my shock.

“And you’re still allowed to live with them?”

“It’s been a long time since they’ve tried to make decisions for me like that. After practically forcing me to become a, uh—“

“Yep.”

He nodded, thankful he didn’t have to say it.

“After that happened, my father laid off. Mother still worries for me, but she knows now that at least I’m safe. That’s all that’s ever really mattered to her.”

“They still hate me, though?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a curt nod.

I smiled to myself, sipping at my drink. He shook his head.

“You look pleased with yourself.”

“I’m sorry to say, but I don’t really feel too terrible that they don’t like me.”

“I know,” he said.

I looked back up to see a small smile on his face as well.

“Also, most of that smile is because I haven’t had a butterbeer in a terribly long time.”

Two months flew by after our visit to Hogsmeade. Though, it was filled with almost daily visits with one another. Usually, he’d just show up and keep me company as I wrote. Sometimes, he’d even give input when I asked for it, or let me read him chapters to see how it sounded. His sleepovers even became more frequent, and part of me had to wonder what on earth anyone would think of it if they knew.

I’d told my friends bits and pieces of what had been taking up so much of my time over the last eight months, but not quite the whole story. Luckily, they hadn’t been too angry with me for it. Most of them were rather indifferent, especially after I’d told them about how he’d changed. I never expected them to forgive him, though. I wouldn’t believe how different things had become if I hadn’t seen how he’d changed for myself.

But he truly did. And it was incredible.

During the breaks I’d take from writing, he was usually excited to tell me about the muggle books he’d been reading. Sometimes out of surprise at the content, and sometimes just because he appreciated the writing.

The icing on top was being with him and running into Ron and Hermione. The looks on their faces when he was gentle and kind in their interaction was absolutely priceless. She’d written me days later to ask if I’d found his long-lost twin, not quite believing that he was capable of being anything but who he used to be. But, as I’d repeatedly told Draco himself: it’s not only possible for people to change for the good, it’s probable for those who care to.

So, our days passed comfortably. He only became more kind and, frankly, affectionate, as time went on.

It was on a beautiful August evening when he knocked on my door, our plans already set in place.

I tugged the door open at the sound and took him in, my brows raised slightly. He was in a white button-down and a black sweater vest. There was a messenger back slung across his chest, one hand with a silver ring adorning it held the strap. His cheeks were slightly pink from the weather outside, and he practically glowed. For lack of a better word, he just looked pretty.

He furrowed his brow, looking back at me.

“Everything alright?”

I nodded fast. “Yeah. You just look really nice today.”

“Oh,” he replied, cheeks suddenly flushed. “You also look nice. I like your blouse.”

“Thanks.”

“I brought something,” he said, giving me a shy smile.

“Okay,” I said curiously. “Are you going to at least take off your shoes?”

He shook his head. “No. In fact, you should probably put yours on.”

I furrowed my brow, though I listened anyways. I started pulling on my shoes.

“I thought we were going to have dinner here first, and then go to the cinema.”

“Change of plans,” he shrugged.

“Alright,” I laughed, still unsure.

He pulled a small object out of the bag he carried, unfolding the cloth around it to reveal a small stone statue. I quirked a brow, looking down at the little object.

“What’s this?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“On the count of three, reach out to it and hold on.”

“Draco, is this a portkey?”

“One…”

“Is this one even legal?”

“Two…”

“You’re insane.”

“Three.”

We both held onto the small statue, and in an instant we were in some alleyway. I took in a sudden breath, feeling out of sorts from the transport.

“Where did you get that?”

“My family has had it forever,” he said, wrapping it back up and tucking it into his bag.

“Where are we?”

He smiled at me, taking my hand. I followed him along blindly, until he lead me into a building. I looked around at the tall ceilings and the beautiful chandelier that hung in the middle.

“Wow,” I said, mostly to myself.

He walked us up to the front desk, greeting the clerk in French. My eyes widened as they continued a conversation, ending only when he took a key from her. He then began leading me towards the elevator, still not loosening his grip on my hand.

“I didn’t know you spoke French.”

He smirked as he pressed the elevator button.

“I brought a few things with in my bag, but I didn’t bring any clothes. I thought we could get whatever else we needed here.”

I quirked a brow as we stepped into the elevator. He hit the button for the right floor.

“How long were you planning on staying?” I asked with a laugh.

“Just tonight and daytime tomorrow. We could stay longer if you want to?”

“No, that’s plenty,” I replied, a smile stuck to my face. “This is crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Practically clinically insane.”

He laughed, pulling me out into the hall. He walked us down the hallway, opening the right door when we arrived, and letting me walk in ahead of him. The room was huge. It had a beautiful sitting area, and judging by the height of the curtains, I was sure the windows would be gorgeous. He called me over as he entered the bedroom through large double doors, and I took it all in. He dropped his bag and flopped down onto the huge mattress.

“Whoa,” I said finally, shaking my head. “I don’t know what else to say.”

I fell down next to him on the bed, smiling over at him when he turned his head to me.

“You like it?”

“This is too much, Draco. Really,” I began. “But, it’s amazing.”

“I have one more thing to show you before we get dinner.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

“You’ve seen the eiffel tower before?”

I shook my head. “Only in pictures.”

He stood quickly, and I sat, watching him circle the bed. He grabbed the tall curtains, pulling them apart with force. I stilled before scrambling to my feet and meeting him at the window. I looked out the practically-floor-to-ceiling windows to see the tower glittering against the night sky. I sighed, absolutely wonderstruck.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? One thing I’m sure the muggles got right.”

I laughed, unbelieving, turning to throw my arms around his middle. He held me against him, resting his head on top of mine as we looked out the window again.

“We’ll have all night to stare out the window if you’d like to, but I don’t think the restaurant we’re eating at will wait as long.”

I looked at him, a smile still stuck to my face. He smiled back, just as gently, tucking some hair behind my ear. I felt my heart beat a little faster then, especially as he didn’t look away from me this time. Usually at this point, one of us would have come up with some clever distraction from whatever tension laid between us. It was silent, but not uncomfortable. There was almost a whisper of ‘tell the truth’ floating there, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to open my mouth to speak. He moved forward the slightest bit, though before anything could happen, he did speak.

“We really should go,” he said as a whisper. “Our reservation is in five minutes, and I’d feel horrible if we missed it.”

He gave a boyish smile, one that I couldn’t help but to return, even if I’d secretly hoped for a different outcome. I nodded silently, accepting his hand again once we walked to the door. We apparated near a relatively quiet street, stepping out onto the sidewalk in order to integrate into the other pedestrians. We walked into a small restaurant hidden through a wall. I hadn’t expected him to take me to a wizards-only restaurant, but especially not one that had me forcefully closing my jaw after it had involuntarily dropped.

“Dray, this is incredible, but it might be a little above my pay grade,” I mentioned, leaning in a bit to speak quietly.

He hummed. “That’s why instead of splitting the bill how you like, I’m just going to pay for it.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“Just let me be nice,” he said, turning the tables to scold me for once.

“Are you sure I’m not underdressed?”

“You look beautiful. Quit worrying.”

I attempted to drop my hand from his as he spoke with the hostess, though his grip only tightened a bit. I felt my cheeks flush a little when he flashed me a knowing smirk and the raise of a brow. We started walking back into the restaurant behind the waitress after a moment.

I spoke quietly as we went, “What, are you trying to romance me now, Malfoy?”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Maybe I am. Are you opposed?”

I hid a smile. “No.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” he muttered under his breath, earning a laugh from me.

Dinner was beautiful, and wildly delicious. It definitely helped that I wasn’t terribly worried about the bill. I also can’t say I hated the idea of his family’s money going towards the meal of a wizard who was against practically everything they stood for. It felt like a small victory. Though, it was a bit strange to be surrounded by wizards who weren’t preoccupied with staring at us.

We stepped out of the restaurant, and rather than zipping someplace else, he was determined to walk to our next destination. He held my hand in his like he was afraid he’d lose me if he didn’t, swinging our arms along without a care.

“You seem happy,” I commented.

“I am,” he affirmed, bumping into me slightly. “I’m with you, for one. Plus, we haven’t received a single sideways glance from anyone around here. It’s nice that you’re the only person who knows me.”

I smiled to myself at that, letting him start swinging our arms again. He grinned over at me as we walked past crowds of people that grew increasingly larger. We probably looked ridiculous, but I certainly didn’t care. Not when I’d never seen him happier.

“So, I’ve got a question for you,” I said.

“Go on, then.”

“Why did you bring me to Paris?”

He glanced at me again, eyes a little wider. I raised one brow in question. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, I don’t know if you remember, but we were in some class. I don’t know which one, I think it was in second or third year,” he shrugged with a slight laugh.

“Oh,” I said, drawing his attention away.

We both looked up, suddenly seeing the peak of the tower come over a building. He made a decision to table my question, instead opting to tug me along as he started running ahead. We bolted forward, avoiding tons of people as we came up on the glittering structure, out of breath from both the run and the laughter at how silly we’d become over a hunk of metal. We walked the rest of the way until we were close enough to really look up at it. I held onto his arm with my free hand, resting my head against his shoulder.

“Wow.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Yeah.”

We stood quietly for a few moments, just to take it all in. The only thing I could really hear was the beat of my own heart and indecipherable conversation being had by the other people nearby. I finally looked back at him, and somehow he was still more gorgeous than everything else I’d seen that night.

He looked at me, a glimmer in his eye as that same old sweet smile showed on his face.

“So, what was the rest of that story?” I asked.

“Ah,” he said with a curt nod. “Well, in that class, someone had asked about portkeys. But before the professor had started to explain it, they called on you to pick anywhere in the world you’d like to go. I guess to demonstrate that a portkey could be enchanted in order to get to that place. You said you’d want to go to Paris and see the Eiffel tower.”

“You remembered that?”

He merely nodded. I tilted my head.

“How did you possibly keep that in mind after all this time?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve… I just remember when it comes to you.”

“That’s crazy,” I laughed. “I don’t understand how you could remember something that happened in a class almost ten years ago. We weren’t even friends then.”

“Well, I,” he began, eyes going starry and somehow prettier than they’d ever been, “I suppose I’ve always loved you.”

I fell completely quiet, about one billion thoughts speeding through my head. Only one rose above the others: I love you. But I still wasn’t saying it. Why wasn’t I saying it? Why wasn’t I saying anything at all?

“Sorry, that was too much to—”

I interrupted what would surely be a lively rambling session from him, and threw myself at him, our lips finally connecting for the first time. As soon as the shock wore off for him, he kissed me back. His lips were soft and careful against mine, his arms wrapping around my middle to pull me in closer, and my hands pressed against his chest. I smiled into the kiss, leaving a few lingering pecks against his lips before we broke apart.

I looked at him, taking in everything that I could about that moment. I sighed.

“You’re so pretty,” I said softly.

That definitely wasn’t what I meant to say.

He laughed. “Yeah?”

“Sorry,” I groaned with a laugh of my own, leaning my forehead against his chest.

He lifted my face with one hand under my chin, pressing one more soft kiss to my lips.

“I love you, is what I meant to say,” I noted.

“I knew this trip was a good idea.”

“So this was the plan from the start, hm?”

He smirked. “Not the plan. Just a hope.”

We went back the hotel room, thought not without my genius idea to grab a cheap bottle of wine first.

It felt more fitting than champagne given that we’d spend the rest of the night staring out of the window and laying lazy kisses on one another.

We found ourselves back at my flat a week later, almost as if nothing had changed. But really, everything had changed. Completely and totally.

We sat on my couch, our tea cold from sitting without any attention on the coffee table in front of us. He talked to me about nothing for hours, and there’s nothing else I’d wanted to be doing than wasting away the day with him. It had quickly become my favorite activity.

“You know,” he started, “inviting me over for tea that day after I’d made quite the reputation for myself was probably a stupid idea.”

“But?” I prodded.

“But,” he said, pressing a kiss to my lips before continuing, “I am utterly thankful you did.”

“Aww. My pretty boy,” I cooed, earning a groan from him.

“You can’t keep calling me that.”

He grabbed my hand as I reached to pinch at his cheeks, kissing my knuckles softly.

“Yes, I can. You secretly love it.”

He blushed. “I love you. There’s a difference.”

I sighed, cuddling into his side. “Does this mean you’re going to take me home and introduce me to your parents as your girlfriend, now?”

“I’m pretty certain I’ll have to.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I’m going to inherit the manor one day.”

“And?” I questioned, laughing.

He kissed me again, speaking quietly against my lips.

“You won’t be my girlfriend forever,” he said with a smirk. “Gotta make sure you’ll like the place.”

#draco malfoy #oh kill me already #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy angst #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic #luna still hates jk

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