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pinksturniolo · 2 months

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If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.

Content warnings (not in every chapter): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, spanking, use of alcohol

word count: 3,887

written in first person pov

Spring 2023

I never liked L.A. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice city. Besides the cost of living being outrageously expensive, the weather was almost always nice and there were a lot of fun things to do. It’s the people that are insufferable. The increasingly large number of influencers and rude celebrities make me want to move away to a small town where nobody knows me, somewhere with a lot of nature and miles of land between you and your neighbor.

I grew up in Pasadena, moving closer to the city after my parents divorced and my mom switched me to a different high school. After I graduated, I got a job in merchandising downtown working for a clothing brand. It was always my dream to work in fashion and I was lucky to be in a spot I wanted.

Working in the fashion industry and living in L.A., I was bound to end up in the circle of today’s social media stars and to be quite honest, there were only a handful of people I actually liked. One of my coworkers, Jackson, became my best friend and he was very outgoing, always dragging me along to influencer parties and events. He had a lot of connections which were good for work but as far as I was concerned, I tried my best not to get involved with anyone on a personal level.

But life has a funny way of throwing you for a loop. Jackson introduced me to Mark who was also in the same line of work we were in. We instantly clicked, the conversation flowing easily. He was attractive, funny and nice. It didn’t take long before we became exclusive and our friends were over the moon, saying how good of a couple we made.

A few months had passed, and I was content. But there was something missing. He was a good boyfriend and treated me well, but I just didn’t feel… passion. I didn’t feel those fireworks. That heart racing, mind bending, butterfly inducing feelings that were portrayed in every romance movie or book you’ve seen or read.

The only person who ever made me feel like that was Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt and his brothers Chris and Nick happened to be really good friends with Mark, and I was introduced to them once me and him started dating. I found them charming, hilarious and some of the nicest influencers I had met so far. Me, Jackson, and Nick became inseparable, hanging out almost every weekend.

Mine and Matt’s friendship started out innocent. He was a little shy at first, but it didn’t take long for him to open up around me and we found that we had many things in common.

Maybe more than I have with Mark.

The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. And it was rarely ever one on one interactions. Most of the time, we all hung out in a group setting but I found myself looking to him when something was funny or observing his reaction when we were watching a movie, and hanging on to every word he said when he joined in on conversations.

As much as I tried to deny the fact that I had developed a huge crush, I couldn’t help that my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him.

Thoughts of his smile, his laugh, his eyes. The way he looked in the mirror when he fixed his hair, the way his pinky lifted from the cup whenever he took a sip of his drink. I found myself wandering how well his lips would fit against mine. How his hands would feel on my body, the sound of his voice panting in my ear if he was on top of me-

It was sinful. I felt horrible and disgusting and I’m sure there was a special place in hell reserved for me.

So, I tried to back off as much as I could. Whenever Mark went to the triplet’s house to hang out like we did almost every week, I made some excuse that I didn’t feel good, or I just wanted some alone time. He was a little concerned at first but then stopped questioning it after a while which I was thankful for.

Matt and Nick constantly blew up my phone, asking why I suddenly stopped coming over and I kept my responses as dry as possible. Even Chris called me a couple times, but I ignored it. I felt bad but I knew it was for the best.

I wanted to respect Mark because even though it pained me to finally admit to myself that I wasn’t in love with him, I did care for him, and I didn’t want to break up. We had only been dating for a few months so obviously we weren’t that serious yet to consider moving in together or even discuss marriage but that didn’t mean that he deserved for his girlfriend to lust over his best friend.

And then one night, when they were all at Top Golf, Jackson called me. I knew I would never hear the end of it if I ignored his call, so reluctantly, I picked up.

“Y/N! Get your bum ass over here, I’m sick of you avoiding us. You’ve had enough alone time. You need to come back to reality.” He scolded.

“Jackson, I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“You sure about that? Cause I could argue there is a certain someone-“

“Jackson.”

“Y/N. I’m serious. I miss you, everyone misses you.”

“I miss you guys too…”

“Okay, so why can’t you come out?”

“It’s… complicated.” I sighed in frustration, unsure how much longer I could keep dodging the situation without explaining it properly. I had a feeling Jackson knew why. He was my best friend, and best friends always knew.

“Complicated how?” He pressed.

There were a few seconds of silence as I tried to find the right words to say, but I just couldn’t come up with anymore good excuses and I knew I was fucked.

“Well, I’m not hearing any good explanation, so if you’re not at the triplet’s house by the time we get there, I’m literally coming over there and dragging you out of the house myself.”

Click.

Yeah, I was fucked.

I walked up the driveway to the entrance of the house, my heart racing and legs feeling like Jello. I really needed to get my shit together. I hadn’t seen Matt in a while, and I found myself extremely nervous as I entered the front door. I walked up the stairs, seeing everyone at the kitchen table. Everyone except Mark and Matt.

I smiled, setting my purse and keys on the table and greeted everyone.

“Mark said he had to finish up some work at the office. Something about a deadline that was coming up soon.” Jackson said, noticing the curious expression on my face.

“Okay…” I replied. That was weird, he’s usually good at communicating with me and I had assumed he had come back with everyone after Top Golf.

Jackson just shrugged, taking another bite of his chicken finger. Once I saw the familiar styrofoam box with red lettering, my jaw dropped and I put a hand over my heart, acting like I was just utterly betrayed.

“Wow, you guys got Cane’s without me?” I asked.

Chris rolled his eyes while Nick gave me a dirty look. “Excuse me, you haven’t been here in fucking 6 months.” He spoke.

“Don’t be dramatic, Nick. It’s been 3 weeks.” I replied.

“I’ll save you my last piece of toast if you promise to stay and watch a movie tonight?” Nick said, giving me puppy dog eyes.

My heart dropped and I gave him a soft smile. “Maybe.” I replied.

“Don’t get your hopes up, it took some threatening just to get her over here.” Jackson added, glaring at me.

“Whatever, you’ll only be breaking Matt’s heart if you don’t stay.” Chris said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Did it really matter to Matt that much whether I was here or not?

Chris started to speak but then Nick stomped on his foot which caused him to hunch over in pain. “What the fuck dude?” Chris said, rubbing his hurt foot. I raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jackson. What the hell is wrong with them?

He simply shrugged again, a small smirk on his face and went back to eating. His nonchalant attitude was starting to bother me. I was definitely having a talk with him later.

“What he means is… Matt misses you. He said you’ve been ignoring his calls. And don’t get me started on that. You have a lot of making up to do.” Nick said, referring to the fact I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.

“I know, I’m sorry… Where is Matt anyways?” I asked, looking around.

“He’s in his room if you wanna go talk to him.” Nick replies, and I get nervous again, butterflies starting to form in my stomach.

I nod and walk away, towards Matt’s room.

I had only been in his room a few times and it was usually with Nick or Jackson, never just me and him. It wasn’t even a big deal but for some reason, the thought of being alone in his room with him scared me.

I knocked on his door softly, waiting for his response. After a few moments of silence, I knocked again, calling his name quietly. “Matt?”

He still didn’t answer. I was about to give up when I heard him respond, “Come in.”

I slowly cracked the door and could see it was dark in his room, the only light coming from the TV. I walked in and saw that he was in his bed, submerged under his comforter, only his head peeking out. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were barely open.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I said and started to move back towards the door.

“No no, its okay. I needed to get up anyway.” He rasped, sleep still thick in his voice.

He sat up slightly, moving the blanket down and I tried not to stare because he didn’t have a shirt on, and I was getting a full view of the tattoos on his arm. Even though he had just woken up, he still looked so handsome.

He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting me to sit down. My heart is still beating faster than usual as I sit on the edge of his bed, making sure there was more than enough space between us.

“All that golfing got you tired?” I ask teasingly, smiling at him. He laughs, a sound that I hadn’t realized I had missed so much.

“To be honest, I’ve been tired all the time lately.” He responds, running a hand through his hair.

“Me too.” I say, looking down to my lap. This small talk was killing me.

“Is that why you’ve been declining my calls? You sleeping too much?” He gets straight to the point, and I can feel his eyes on me.

I laugh nervously, unsure how to tell him the real reason I’ve been avoiding him.

“I’ve just been really busy with work. You know how that goes.” I say, hoping he won’t question me further.

He hums and nods his head, as I finally make eye contact with him. “I don’t really believe you… But that’s fine. I just hope it’s not because I’ve done something wrong.”

“No, of course not. It’s not that you’re doing anything wrong…” I reply, stopping before I say anything I regret. You’re just consuming my every thought and desire.

“So, it is something I’m doing then?” he asks, wanting me to clarify.

My words seem to get stuck in my throat as I look at him, unsure how to even answer that. His eyes are burning into mine, making my heart race faster.

“No.” I simply reply, and he raises his brows at my dry response.

“Yes.” I blurt, and his face is now plastered with confusion and hint of amusement as I get flustered, pinching my nose and closing my eyes in frustration.

“Yes?” He asks.

“No- fuck, I meant-“ I start and Matt interrupts me, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Yes or no, Y/N?” He says, now enjoying the fact I was making a fool of myself.

“No, Matt. It has nothing to do with you, okay?” I say, getting up from his bed. Lies.

“Now can we go watch a movie before Nick starts throwing a fit?”

✿

A couple hours and three bags of popcorn later, we were all sat on the couch as the credits of Edward Scissorhands roll on the screen. I checked my phone and to my surprise, Mark still hasn’t texted or called. I’m sure he’ll just call me in the morning.

Jackson yawns and stretches his arms out in his seat next to me, announcing it’s time for him to go home. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” He says to me, and I nod as he gives his goodbyes to Matt and Nick. Chris passed out halfway through the movie until me and Nick started spraying whipped cream smiley faces on his forehead, annoying him enough to make him storm off to his room.

Once Jackson is gone, Nick scoots next to me and throws his arm on the back of the couch behind me, giving me a suggestive look.

“Sooo… are you gonna spill the tea? What’s up with you and Mark?” He asks, nudging my shoulder.

I furrow my brows in confusion as his question. “What do you mean?”

I can feel Matt staring at me from his spot across the other side of the couch.

“Well, Mark barely even mentioned you tonight and then he randomly left saying he had to finish up some stuff at work. And I’m guessing he didn’t even tell you because you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for his call.” Nick says.

“Wow, you’re incredibly observant.” I respond and I hear Matt chuckle.

“I know. Also, that would explain why you’ve been MIA the past few weeks. Are you guys gonna break up or something?” He asks.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate.

“But something is going on with you two?” Nick questions.

I hesitate and look at Matt, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed, his legs spread slightly in his sweatpants. “Please stop beating around the bush, Y/N. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” He speaks.

I sigh, throwing my head back and tucking my hair behind my ears. “Okay. Look, we’re not breaking up. But I’ve just felt different recently… like… I don’t know, like I don’t feel the same way about him like when we first met. Maybe we rushed into things too quickly. He has been working a lot lately and I just feel… lonely.” Empty. Bored. Unsatisfied.

Nick hums in understanding, tilting his head. “See, that makes sense. You guys have zero chemistry. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. Right, Matt?” He says, looking to him.

“Zero.” He replies instantly. His eyes have not left me since we started this conversation, and it makes me want to melt into the couch.

Suddenly, Nick gets a face time call and jumps up. “Shit, I have to take this. But we’re not done with this conversation, okay?” He tells me and I smile at him as he walks off upstairs.

I look at Matt, who now stands up and walks over to me, sitting down and putting his arm on the back of the couch, the same spot Nick had it in just moments earlier.

The way they switched places so quickly had my head spinning and the closeness of him next to me made my heart skip a beat.

“You know, you can sleep here if you want. I’m sure Nick won’t mind if you stay in his room.” He said politely. I smile at him, shaking my head. “It’s okay. I prefer my bed much better, no offense.” I reply and he laughs. “I won’t tell Nick you said that.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls Matt… I guess my head’s just been a mess.” I tell him, looking to my lap, playing with a loose string on the rip in my jeans.

“It’s cool. You can talk to me anytime you need to though, you know. About anything.” He says ducking his head to try and make eye contact again. I give in, looking at him and his soft expression tugs at my heart strings like I’m a lovesick puppet.

“Thank you.” I reply. “But I don’t know if you wanna get caught up in that. I’ve been a little… frustrated, to say the least.”

His arm flexes behind me, and I see his jaw clench, a curious look now in his eyes.

“Frustrated?” He says and I realize I might have implied something with that statement.

“Uh, I mean, stressed, you know? Like I have all these pent-up emotions.”

Shit. What the fuck was I saying?

Matt is silent, and the way he’s looking at me has my heart beating a million miles a minute, my palms feeling sweaty and my head spinning.

Finally, he says, “Like you need a release, right?” My eyes are still locked on his, floating in a never-ending pool of icy cold blue that makes me feel warm in the palpable tension now filling the room.

“Mhm.” I say, afraid to speak, because I might continue to say incredibly stupid things I’ll regret.

I feel his hand ghost over the back of my neck, which causes chills to run down my spine.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes travelling down my face, pausing at my lips. “I could help you with that too. If you asked.” He said quietly, almost whispering and looks me in the eyes again, a playful fire burning there and a sly smirk on his lips.

Before I can even process what he said, the next second, Nick comes bounding down the stairs from his room and Matt removes his arm from behind me, clearing his throat.

I jumped up, causing a weird look from Nick. “I-I need to go home. I forgot I have some things to do.” I blurt, going to grab my purse and keys from the table.

He looks back and forth from me to Matt, one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Okay… I guess I’ll see you later?” He asks and I give him a hug before walking to the front door past Matt, avoiding eye contact with him. “For sure. Later!” I say, trying to rush out the door as fast as I can.

Once I open the door and step out, I hear Matt run to catch up and I turn around while he shuts the door behind him.

“Y/N. Wait.” He says.

“Yes?” I ask, my breath coming out in short puffs.

The cool air of spring is blowing, leaves falling from the trees and flowers starting to bloom in the grass.

Matt looks at me in the same way he has all night and I notice he’s hesitating, his mouth opening but no words coming out.

“What?” I say, wondering what he could’ve possibly followed me out of his house for.

“Tell me you don’t feel what I feel.”

“What?” I say again, sounding like a broken record.

He moves closer to me, his body now a few inches from mine and I see his chest rise and fall quickly, his next words coming out breathlessly.

“Tell me you don’t feel something between us. I need to know the real reason why you’ve been ignoring me.”

My heart is pounding at his boldness, and I clutch to the keys in my hand so hard my skin stings with pain. I was not ready to have this conversation and all I could do is freeze as he waits for my response.

“Y/N, tell me you feel nothing. That I’m just a friend to you and nothing more.” He says softly now, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers against my jaw with the lightest touch.

I want to tell him that yes, you’re just a friend and nothing more. That I don’t have any feelings for you and I don’t think about you every moment I wake up and every moment before I go to sleep. That I feel nothing.

But I just can’t. I can’t say or do anything but stare back at him, my eyes surely saying the complete opposite of what I’m thinking.

He closes the gap between us, now grabbing both sides of my face in his hands, brushing his lips against mine. “Tell me you don’t want me.” He breaths, and my knees feel weak as I clutch onto his shirt. “Matt…” Is all I can manage and I’m not doing a very good job of convincing him that I don’t.

He groans at the needy sound in my voice, and I can’t take the tension anymore as I press my lips to his, kissing him. He instantly kisses me back, his grip tightening on my jaw and I’m not even sure how I’m still standing.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, our mouths moving in sync and it’s electric. His lips are so soft but firm in the way he leads, and when his tongue glides against mine, I moan lightly from the feeling. His hands now slip to my waist, mine still on his chest.

The kiss is becoming heated as we pant against each other, his fingertips digging into my hips and pulling me even closer to him. I feel his heart racing, the world slipping away like nothing else matters.

He kissed me like he couldn’t breathe, and I was his oxygen.

I wanted more and more, unsure that I will ever stop before a little voice in my head tells me that this is wrong, wrong, wrong. But it feels so fucking good.

No. This is bad.

“No-“ I say, suddenly pushing him away from me, catching my breath.

I shake my head, backing away from him now. “This is bad.”

His cheeks are tinted pink, lips swollen and red, his hair a mess.

“Y/N.” He says, taking a step towards me.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” I responded, stepping further from him. “I have to go.” And I turn away, practically running to my car and slamming the door, taking off before I can change my mind.

As I drive home, the look on Matt’s face replays in my head, and I touch my lips, the feeling of his kiss still there.

I’ve never felt this strongly before, and as I drive further and further from him, I feel an invisible string tugging on me, willing me to turn around.

It’s a dangerous game to play, whatever we’ve started.

a/n: matts pov and disgusting smut in part two 😁

feedback and thoughts appreciated 💕

taglist:

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

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The Dreaming responds to Hob.

Every time that Hob falls asleep now, the weather in the Dreaming gets hot and muggy, like a summers day where all you can do is lay around naked and hope for the heat to break.

Most dreamers don't feel it (but Matthew does & Lucienne just waves it off with a wilting blush), but Hob does, even if he doesnt know he's dreaming and regardless of his dream setting -- dreaming of teaching/dreaming of sitting in the White Horse/dreaming of that one winters day in 1458 -- he's still just wearing tiny shorts and no shirt, glistening with sweat.

Dream doesn't know how to make it stop and he hasn't invited Hob back to the library in ages, because even when Hob is aware he's dreaming, he starts out dressed in nothing but short shorts.

It's infuriating!

It's sooooooooo sexy!!

Hehe, I always love the trope of the dreaming reacting to Hob because it literally is Dream and its expressing his feelings!!

Hob is actually kind of bummed by this whole thing because ALL his dreams these days feel like that nightmare where you go to work for a special presentation and realise you're doing it naked. Whatever Hob dreams about, he's always nearly nude! The tiny shorts don't cover much. And he's hardly seen Dream at all. It's very peculiar. When Dream does stop by one of Hob’s dreams for a visit he immediately hands Hob this giant robe and indicates for him to put it on! Of course it's nice to see his friend and have a chat, but Hob gets this sad feeling that Dream must think his body is ugly or something?

It's silly, but Hob can't help it. In the waking world he starts layering up more when Dream is visiting, even if the weather is fine. He doesn't want Dream to be uncomfortable and while the idea of his dearest beloved friend thinking that he's ugly hurts Hob’s heart, he tries to get on with life.

...and with Hob layering up more, the dreaming gets frustrated that it isn't seeing as much of Hob as it wants! So what happens? The dreaming gets hotter, and the little shorts preserving Hob’s modesty disappear entirely.

Matthew actually falls out of the sky, and even Dream is sweating. He's thinking of Hob so much he accidentally pulls him into the throne room from across the dreaming. Poor Hob ends up naked, practically in Dream’s lap, desperately apologising and trying to cover up.

It takes a lot of blushing and stuttering for Dream is confess that he's not offended by Hob’s nudity... he's absolutely feral and horny about it to the point where he's altered the climate of his realm. Which pretty much takes Hob’s self esteem from 0 to 100.

Hopefully the dreaming will calm down a little if it's allowed to look and touch?

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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msmargaretmurry · 1 year

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i love the concept of leon getting banished to cringefail MLS and desperately wanting to go back home 😭😭😭 I don’t know if you’ve ever seen people absolutely dunking on leon’s skating skills but maybe he did start out with hockey but got so mad about his lack of grace on skates that he’s just like fuck the stanley cup I will score goals. on my FEET! and then he ends up watching matthew in the playoffs

anon, i'm thrilled to hear this, because i also love the concept. i have no idea what kind of situation would have to occur for a german player who is theoretically good enough to play in the bundesliga to land himself on an mls team for a season but i have full faith that with some magical fanfiction handwaving a quasi-reasonable reason can be invented.

according to generous purveyor of german knowledge @irrelevanttous, when leon tried soccer (football, yes, i know) because all of his friends were playing it, he wound up quitting because he was mad the coach wouldn't let him take free kicks, which is such a funny and petty reason that coming up with an equally funny and petty reason for him to have quit hockey instead would be great fun. it's giving "NO DAD, I WANT TO LIVE MY DREAMS NOT YOURS" vibes, except for how i feel like peter would be like "that's great son let's buy you some new cleats."

anyway, the bright side of landing in south florida for this north american soccer adventure is that inter miami has easily the best logo in the league. which would be no comfort to leon the footballer who does not really want to be there, but it's fun for me personally. he'd look great in the black and pink. this is my soapbox for more pink in men's sports, you cowards.

so, for reasons, leon the footballer schleps across the atlantic. mls season starts in late february and i assume they have training and stuff before then so let's have him arriving in mid-january. he is so grumpy, and the fact that the weather is so nice makes him extra grumpy, because he is determined not to like it here. he will do what needs to be done to get his career back on track but this is TEMPORARY, okay?

except then maybe before the season kicks off, a bunch of the guys get a box at a panthers game as a little team bonding excursion. they don't really know much about hockey, they just think it would be fun. they definitely don't know how much leon knows about hockey — i don't think anyone in the miami soccer community knows what a peter draisaitl is; people in the north american ice hockey community barely know what a peter draisaitl is — and leon's like, he enjoys hockey as a spectator now, he'll play a little pickup with friends sometimes, but once his teammates figure out that he knows literally anything, they are clustered around him while they all watch this game, asking questions and laughing at his judgey little comments, and unfortunately for leon he winds up having fun.

after the game — panthers win, everyone's in a great mood — someone from the cats' pr team or whatever is like, hey, south florida sports supporting south florida sports, do you guys want to come meet some of our guys? yeah sure why not. and obviously amongst the guys doing this little meet and greet is one-man hospitality crew matthew tkachuk, whom leon definitely noticed on the ice, and is definitely noticing now, because uh oh, charming handsome man alert. matthew is shaking hands with every inter miami guy and asking their names in a way that seems genuine, but he's also oozing this easy confidence that really makes leon want to fuck with him a little. matthew gets to leon, shakes his hand as they exchange introductions; matthew says something like "you know, i don't know much about soccer but i'll have to get out to a game this season," and leon says, "yeah, well, i know a lot about hockey and whoever taught you to skate, i think they owe you your money back."

matthew stares at him, and leon has this moment of, ah fuck i was too mean again, why are americans SO sensitive, but then matthew laughs and says, "that would be my mom, and don't worry, i will definitely let her know." he's starting to breeze on by to the next soccer guy, but leon has this weird feeling of really wanting to continue the conversation — he blurts, "tell her don't worry about it, my father taught me and i was never any good at it, either."

this makes matthew stop and catch leon's eye again, and leon can see the shift in his expression from politely friendly to genuinely personally interested. it's subtle — he's not sure he's supposed to be able to see it — but matthew's smile goes a little crooked and there's this spark in his eye and oh, what a nice little win for leon. time is limited, though, so matthew must move on and finish meeting every single soccer guy, except before they all get shuffled out matthew circles back around to oh so smoothly be like, hey lemme give you my number so if you guys want to come to another game i can hook you up.

and thus it begins… an intense flirtation that turns into fucking that turns into feelings…. two elite atheletes desperate to prove themselves in their separate sports for different reasons……… one of them desperate to make a home in south florida and the other one deserate to get out…………… i just think it would be neat :)

#ask #matthew and leon #the problem is that to write this i would have to learn so much about soccer. not sure i have that in me #hockey for ts #inter miami fußball club

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 10 months

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𓅨 Intermission: An Honest Idiot (A Hob Side Story)

Intermission: An Honest Idiot (A Hob Side Story): Takes place between Chapter 29 and Chapter 30 of ‘Your Fate is Sealed With Mine’. Reader heads out to have lunch with Hob and Matthew in the Waking World. Girl talk ensues.

Warnings: Smack Talk.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, Side Story to ‘Your Fate is Sealed With Mine’.

Word Count: ~1.2k

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“I don’t think that he’s going to like this when he finds out, ma’am,” Matthew chirped from your shoulder. You didn’t bother sparing him a glance.

“And since when have I cared for what Morpheus thinks about my activities?” You crisply replied, your leather boots stomping quite heavily on the London sidewalk. It was a cold and rainy day in London. Not unusual weather and it certainly reflected your current mood. Dismal.

“You clearly are a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a ma, er— Endless, telling you what to do or how to live,” Matthew added. “But at the same time, we both know what he’s like when angered and you running off to the Waking World without him is definitely going to piss him off.”

“Good!” You snapped out, earning yourself a few looks. Right, you were a woman walking the streets of London with a Raven perched on your shoulder, and appeared to be carrying on a conversation with it. It was a strange sight. Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath and slowly let it out. This was supposed to be a stress-relieving trip, not one that only made your stress worse. “Look, Matthew, I need to talk with someone who understands Morpheus and how he thinks, without Morpheus there to intercede. Hob is the only one I have.”

Matthew couldn’t argue with that… but still. You had just up and teleported yourself from the Dreaming? Morpheus was going to lose his mind the moment he realized you were gone. Matthew knew that this was not going to confrontation he wanted to be around for. Turning down a nearby street, you spotted The New Inn and sighed in relief. Already you were feeling better. You made your way down the street to The New Inn’s front door and opened it. Inside the bar was a homely interior that welcomed customers to stay awhile, sip some tea, and enjoy a nice conversation with your friends. You spotted Hob almost immediately, hunched over a stack of papers. Marching over to him and ignoring the looks you got for having a raven on your shoulder, you slouched into the seat across from the immortal man. Hob’s eyes flickered up to you and your slightly sour face. You were speaking before he had a chance to open his mouth.

“Do you know what I just found out?” You asked, a tinge of hostility within your words. “Apparently, I’m the bloody queen of the Dreaming and married.” Hob’s eyebrows shot up.

“Did he not tell you?” You aired out a dignified snort.

“Of course not! I found out about my station through the librarian.” Hob was slightly taken aback. You had found out that you were Morpheus’s queen and wife through the librarian? Surely his old friend was smarter than that. “Exactly how did I end up married and the queen of a realm without knowing it?” Hob coughed slightly and scratched his scalp with his pen.

“I think we both know he’s not the best at communicating… but you finding that out through the librarian? I’ll admit I’m at a loss on that.” Hob commented, leaning back in his seat. You snorted again and Matthew bobbed his head.

“You both are bad at communicating, Y/N,” Matthew told you. “Have you tried telling him how you feel?” You, being stubborn and spiteful, crossed your arms and pretended not to hear him. In your mind, Morpheus was doing a shit job telling you what you needed to know and the entire blame was on him. Your face scrunched and you set your elbow down on the table, dropping your chin into your hand.

“The least he could have done was ask me to marry him, I haven’t got the foggiest idea how to be a queen.” You grumbled softly, tracing random patterns on the table with your fingers.

“From my experience, he’s not the biggest talker, Y/N,” Hob told you, his eyes gentle and understanding. “He’s been alone for most of his existence, I don’t think he realizes that he needs to communicate with you. Y/N, despite what you may think, he does care about you and wants what is best for you.”

“Oh really, I thought I was just a teasing menace that he is now stuck with for the rest of eternity.” You snipped back with a curl of your upper lip. Hob chuckled before waving at the bartender for a pot of tea, you were surely in need of someone to talk to. Matthew hopped from your shoulder to the table and looked up at you.

“You’re a menace alright, Y/N, but please remember that no Endless has had a Bonded before. He’s new to this you know.”

“But failing to tell me that I’m married to him?” You pointed out. Matthew had to admit that-that was kind of a problem. Tea was brought over and Hob pushed a cup your way. You grudgingly accepted it.

“Touché…” Hob echoed. “Question is, is he tolerable to you?” You froze halfway to taking a sip of your tea and felt a flush ripple it's way up your neck and cheeks to your ears.

“He’s intolerable,” You rumbled out, trying to quell the thoughts suddenly flying through your mind. You most certainly didn’t want him to hug you… or kiss you passionately because you had been daydreaming about his lips for the last three weeks… you certainly didn’t wonder what he looked like beneath his dark clothing. Matthew and Hob could clearly see how you felt about your impromptu husband.

“Oh, so you do like him!” Matthew hopped several places in excitement, his wings fluttering. You shot the raven a dirty scowl as Hob smothered his own chuckle behind his mug of tea.

“I—“ You went to fire back an affirmative ‘no’, but found that your refusal and denial stuck in your throat. Both raven and man snickered further. “Don’t laugh at me! Morpheus is being a twat!”

“Aye but I don’t think you’re making it easy on him, Y/N,” Hob told you, eyeing your features. Even he could see how beautiful you were, it probably didn’t take much taunting or teasing on your part to drive Morpheus crazy. He was clearly head over heels in love with you and didn’t know how to properly express it let alone tell you. You took offense to his words and bristled.

“I stopped trying to tease him ages ago.” Hob’s eyebrow rose in challenge.

“Y/N, I don’t believe you have to try to do so in the first place.” You grunted in disagreement.

“Can we please talk about something other than my nonexistent relationship with Dream of the Endless?” You huffed.

“We can talk about hot dogs?” Matthew offered. You held a finger up in his face.

“No, just no,” You warned the raven. Matthew started arguing back with you and Hob had to come between the two of you as you started drawing attention from the other customers. Huffing out, you looked at Hob and narrowed your eyes. “Alright then, Hob, have anyone special in your life?”

Hob choked on his next sip of tea.

Date Published: 11/23/22

Last Edit: 8/20/23

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#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus #dream the endless #sandman x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #lord morpheus

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jaehyunspeachparty · 3 years

Text

daddy jaehyun

iv.lxiii. (a)

Geon was on his back and looking at you. He babbled something and laughed. "Well what's so funny?" You bend over him and kiss the tip of his nose. He continued to giggle and looked at you with his big dark eyes. "Always laughing ..." You stroke his hair and smile at your son. "So this stinker is now clean again." Jaehyun came to you with Kiwoo in his arms after he changed his diapers. "Very good. Geon is in an extremely good mood again." You pick him up and put him on his legs. Slowly the twins were able to stand on their two legs, but they did not dare to take their steps yet. "If Geon is not in a good mood, the world will end." Jaehyun laughed and sat down next to you and sat Kiwoo on his lap, who was already busy with a toy and nibbled at it. "That's right, our happy boy." You kiss Geon's forehead and he giggled again. "How are you ... you two?", Jaehyun then asked you and looked at you worried. "All good." You smile and Geon reached out his arms to you so that you take him in your arms. "You are in the third trimester since today," said Jaehyun and you look at him in surprise. "How do you know?" "That's what the app tells me." He picked up his phone and showed you the pregnancy app he had installed. "Do you have an app?" "Don't you?" Jaehyun asked, shocked. "Well, I've been pregnant many times, I think I'm getting to know my way around." "But you know what that means?" Jaehyun looked at you and grinned, but you shake your head. "The risk of miscarriage is now much much lower." Jaehyun grinned broadly and was incredibly excited. But you didn't think of that at all. Sometimes this pregnancy scared you. "That's right ... I completely forgot about that ..." You stroke your stomach in a dazed manner. Sometimes you forget you are pregnant, especially since you have stopped feeling sick. You are so busy with your children that sometimes you don't fully notice the baby inside you. But you had Jaehyun who always reminded you of it. "When do we have the appointment where we can find out the gender?" Jaehyun was excited like a little pooch. "In two weeks, there is the next big check." You got a little more serious because it all seemed so fast to you. The twins will soon be 1 year old and you were already pregnant with the next child. But then you two suddenly hear sobs from Sunoh's room. He must have just woken up from his afternoon nap. "Mummyyyyyy ..." he called you and cried in between. "Mummy is outside, you just have to get out of the room," you said and had to laugh. You can see how slowly the door opened and with his little hands in the front, he went to you. "Mummmyyyy ..." He came to you immediately and leaned on your shoulder. "Did you have a nightmare?", Jaehyun asked and looked at his son with a laugh. Sunoh shook his head. His hair stood in all directions and his eyes were still very small because the light still blinded him. "Did you dream of Mummy?", Jaehyun asked further, but Sunoh shook his head. "Did you dream about Daddy?" Sunoh shook his head. "From Miga, Geon and Kiwoo?" Sunoh shook his head again. "What did you dream of then?", Jaehyun then asked and grinned. "Food," said Sunoh, grinning too. "Mmmm should we eat something?" Jaehyun's eyes widened and Sunoh's attention was entirely on him. "Yessss." He giggled and went to his father. That made you happy, because Sunoh was often very changeable to his father. But Jaehyun tried so hard and now it showed. Sunoh showed growing affection for Jaehyun more and more. "Maybe we should go out with the boys for a bit after lunch. We don't have to pick up Miga until the afternoon, so we can go to the playground beforehand." The weather was finally warm and nice and it would be a great opportunity to strengthen the relationship. "I don't know, I mean ..." Jaehyun was still unsure because you were threatened. "We can't hide forever, the children have to get out anyway." You didn't want to hide further, you wanted to experience something with the children. Especially on days when Jaehyun didn't have a job. "Hmm, yes you are right. Nothing has been done for weeks ..." Jaehyun was still unsure, but he agreed with you. The children had to go out and he couldn't lock anyone up here.

Matthew had two coffee mugs firmly in his hand and saw a black Mercedes parked in front of him. The door opened and he immediately recognized the woman inside. "Get in quickly," she hissed and Matthew took the passenger seat. The windows were darkened so no one could see them. Matthew gave her the coffee and then took a sip of his. "Minu, what do we do now?", He asked desperately and looks at the actress. "I don't know, something keeps the two of them very close to each other ..." Minu thought about it and took another sip of the coffee. "Maybe the kids?" Asked Matthew. "No, there has to be something that is more important. Jaehyun is now on set a lot shorter. He also got a day off, although he had an important day of filming that day. Something is wrong with that." Minu thought and thought. "I don't know, I think you're getting into something." Matthew shook his head, but Minu just laughed disapprovedly. "That's exactly what you say. How much do you want Y/N now? I thought she was meant for you?" "Just as important as Jaehyun is to you. That's why we work together," sniffed Matthew. "We should watch them," said Minu then. "I can't watch them. They suspect me all the time anyway. The police was even at my apartment!" Matthew shook his head and Minu nodded. "That's right. They have cameras in the house now, or?" She asked and Matthew nodded. "We have to get access to it somehow." Minu thought and thought. "I don't know, this is going to be tough. The security company they have been hiring is pretty good." "We'll find a way, I have another plan anyway." Minu grinned and put the coffee mug aside so she could drive off. "What really?" Matthew seemed quite surprised. "Yes, I found someone who had almost brought the two apart at one point. We can learn a lot from her." "Do I know the person?", Matthew asked mistakenly and Minu shook his head. "No." "And what's the name of the person?" He asked further. "Suji ..."

daddy jaehyun masterlist

#jaehyun #daddy jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun jung #nct #nct 127 #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 2020 #nct 2020 angst

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Note

what about....... 💻 for thomastair, with the plot "there's only one bed"? thank u 🥺

i know we're all going off about ariadne & alastair right now but I wanted to get this posted!! thomastair fluff with a little angst. i hope you like this, it was a lot of fun to write! pls check the end for disclaimers, i also cross-posted to AO3. only content warnings are discussion of grief and brief mention of racism.

prompt: “there’s only one bed”

“You’re in luck!” the innkeeper declared. “There are four rooms left.”

“Thank you, sir,” James responded without question. Four rooms, eight people. “We’ll take them.” James paid the gentlemen and turned to his friends.

Lucie pouted. “I suppose that means Daisy and I can’t share a room.”

It was a trying journey, dragging a group of eight along into rural England, but they needed to find the portal that continued to allow Belial a connection to this realm, and their only leads were here. It was the sole way to stop Belial for good. It began as just the Merry Thieves, of course, but then Lucie and Cordelia caught wind of it, and they couldn’t refuse. From there, it was Alastair, who refused to allow his sister to go without him, despite the animosity that still sat between him and the other boys, and Jesse, who insisted that this was the only way to save Grace and free her from Belial’s - and their mother’s - control. As such, the eight of them departed. It might not be ideal to travel with so many people, but it did allow them to split into smaller groups relatively easily - unless, of course, those groups were sharing a room with each other.

Without Alastair and Jesse, it would be simple: Lucie with Cordelia, James with Matthew, and Thomas with Christopher. However, no one really knew Jesse all that well apart from Lucie, and they certainly didn’t trust Alastair enough to leave Jesse with him for a night. Most logically, the girls would stay with their brothers, but Lucie had been excited about the idea of a ‘sleepover’ with Cordelia all day. The weather was beginning to become treacherous, as it sometimes did during English winters, and they knew they would need to retreat to an inn that evening.

“Nonsense, Lucie,” Thomas said a little more quickly than seemed logical. “I can stay with Alastair, and I’m sure one of you doesn't mind staying with Jesse.” He eyed his friends. “You two should enjoy yourselves; it’s been a difficult couple of days.”

Lucie’s eyes lit up eagerly. “Oh, Thomas, are you sure?”

Matthew’s eyes had darkened and he repeated, “Yeah, Tom, are you sure?”

Alastair rolled his eyes and ignored the fact that they were solely debating who would have the displeasure of spending the night in the same room as him.

“I said so, didn’t I?” was Thomas’ reply.

“I’ll stay with Jesse,” James offered before the discussion could continue into more hurtful territory.

The innkeeper led them to their rooms, and they settled for the night.

Alastair gritted his teeth when he saw that instead of two single beds, there was one double. He sighed. “I can go ask for extra blankets; I’ve slept in worse places.”

Thomas paused for a second in confusion. “Don’t be daft, Carstairs, the bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.” He turned his head sideways. “Though it might be a bit short…”

“You don’t have to-”

“I said, don’t be silly. We’re here to rest, that’s all.”

Alastair grunted but didn’t push it further. They continued in relative silence as they took turns changing behind the folding screen and freshening up at the wash bin. Finally comfortable, Alastair settled into the armchair beside the bed with the book he’d brought along and tried to consume himself enough in the reading that he could ignore that just a few feet away from him was the very tall, very muscular, very attractive man who hated him.

It wasn’t working.

“What are you reading?”

Alastair bit his lip. He hated when people interrupted him while he was reading, but he supposed he wasn’t really reading at all, just pretending to. The cover of the book was plain, a deep red leather with no writing. Whenever he was around folks who were not his family, he was careful to position himself in a way that no one would be able to see the writing inside - writing that did not use the Roman alphabet. He always felt more comfortable with Thomas, though, for some odd reason. He sighed. “Divan-e Shams.” He tilted the book towards Thomas so he could see a bit of the Farsi poetry written inside.

“Would you read some to me? I’ve forgotten my reading material.”

Alastair flashed him an incredulous look. “What an important thing to forget.”

“Yes,” Thomas sighed. “I have realized. So…?”

Alastair rolled his eyes and did his best to translate. “My desert is without end, my soul, my heart must tear. The world here-”

“No, no,” Thomas interrupted. “In Persian.”

Alastair pushed away some of his shock. After all, Cordelia had said that Thomas had been studying the language with Lucie. “Right,” he amended before beginning again. Around the same spot, though, he cut himself off.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s just… it’s meant to be sung. It feels strange saying it.”

“Sing it, then.”

Alastair stared at him for a moment. Was this some sort of trick? Was he going to run off to his schoolboy friends the moment he was finished to laugh about what he had done? Was he doing it to get revenge? He pondered all of the possibilities, but his mind rested on just one thought: that perhaps it would be worth it, to play into some cruel trick, if it meant he could say that he’d sung to Thomas Lightwood, even just once.

“I mean… You don’t have to, but you can. If you wanted,” Thomas said quickly, realizing that he might have made Alastair uncomfortable.

Alastair cleared his throat and began to sing. He made sure to keep his voice soft and low as he made his way through the ghazal, careful to not allow anyone to hear through the walls. Cordelia would never let him live it down if she heard. He finally looked up at Thomas, who was staring at him intensely.

“That was beautiful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you understand any of it?”

Thomas grinned. “Not a word.”

Alastair chuckled. “That’s alright. Mevlevi - I believe you folks call him Rumi - was a genius. He crafted phrases in a way… Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything else quite like it. He gives new meanings to old words and uses quite a bit of wordplay, speaking of love and loss and longing… I used to think it was a tragedy, truly, that English speakers could not understand, but now… it’s nice. Like a secret only I, and, well, Persia, have access too.” He bit back a smile as he rambled. While the books he had were from his mother, she never had much of an interest in it all, nor Cordelia, so he’d never had anyone to muse about the poet with before.

“I can see why you enjoy it so much. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard something so beautiful before. I didn’t even know you could sing.”

Alastair felt his brain sputter a bit. He’d become so entranced with the language before him that he’d forgotten that he had just sung it to Thomas. He felt his face flush, and he was grateful that it is difficult to see against his dark complexion. “Oh… It was nothing. I mean, I don’t, really. It’s just something my mum taught me.”

“It’s incredible,” Thomas said in awe, his face glowing a faint pink. “I, uh, I write songs, you know. I mean, I’ve never told anyone, least of all you, so, you wouldn’t know, but now you do. Just in my head, I mean. Well, sometimes I write them down. I’m not very musically inclined.” His face was growing redder by the second.

Alastair was careful not to grin too widely. “Sing one, then.”

“What?” Thomas squeaked.

“Well, you don’t have to, but you can, if you want to.”

Thomas threw him a quick glare for repeating his words and then took a deep breath. He was silent for a bit, but then he began to sing, careful not to look towards Alastair. “I woke up thinking you were still here, my hands shaking with regret. I've held this dream for such a long, long time, and now I want to wake up to the rhythm of a wild heart that beats, that beats like a drum.

“Your light, it follows me in darkness. I'm trying hard, but I can't win, and I've played the victim for a long, long time, and I wanna grow up from the rhythm of a younger heart, it leads, just like a river runs.”

Alastair stood from the armchair and moved to where Thomas was sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “That’s beautiful, Thomas,” he said softly. “I didn’t… I know I didn’t know her, but I’m sure she’d love it.”

Thomas turned away from him sharply, his lip trembling and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

Alastair took the other boy’s hand, cupping it firmly between his own, as if just to say, I’m here with you. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Thomas said, trying futilely to wipe away his tears. “We were having a moment, and then I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he replied gently. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Thomas. You shouldn’t just push them away.”

Thomas scoffed. “What do you suggest I do then? Mask my pain with cruel, horrible lies about those who have done nothing to deserve them like you do?”

Alastair dropped his hand and stood up, backing away from Thomas. He was silent for a moment. “You’re right. You are. But I’m trying, Thomas, I really am. I don’t want to…” I don’t want to be my father, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. “I don’t want to be the kind of person who takes my hurt out on others anymore, and I’m trying. I swear it.”

“I know,” Thomas said softly. He was silent for a moment. “I understand why you did it.”

Alastair’s jaw tightened reflexively.

“Matthew said some awful things about… about the way you look, and your father, and… the incident. You were in a bad way already.”

Alastair was speechless. He’d forgotten that Thomas was present for that. He hadn’t shared any of it with Thomas, not his insecurities about his heritage, nor his father, and certainly not the horrible, world-altering guilt over Clive’s death that still sat in the depths of his soul years later.

“That doesn’t make what you said okay.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You weren’t trying to hurt me.”

“I was not.”

“You were trying to hurt Matthew.”

He sighed. “I was.”

��And you did.”

“I did.”

“And perhaps he deserved some of it.”

“Not what I did, though.”

“No, not what you did.”

“I took it too far.”

“You did.”

“I know. I’ve known since the moment I said it. I’ve regretted it since the moment I said it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think that it’s something that can be fixed, though.”

“With Matthew? Maybe not.”

“What about with you?”

“There’s nothing to fix, Alastair.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I wanted to hate you because you hurt Matthew. But… I think the world is just a little more complicated than I’d like it to be.”

Alastair sat back down on the bed, though farther from Thomas this time.

“Is that… Is that why you dyed your hair? Because of the things he said?”

Alastair attempted to hide the way he physically flinched.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-”

“Do you think he’s the only one?” he interrupted. “Do you think I haven’t been laughed at or ridiculed or worse, suspected to be dangerous or a thief, my entire life just because of how dark my hair and eyes and skin are?”

“I’m sorry,” was all Thomas could find to say. “Matthew still shouldn’t’ve said those things. I’m sorry I never stopped him.”

He’d left Alastair speechless yet again. The thought had never crossed his mind before, or perhaps it had, that Thomas could have ever spoken to Matthew about the kinds of comments he made on Alastair’s appearance. Though, the longer he pondered the idea, the more he wondered if he had held some sort of small resentment because of it, and never realized. “That wasn’t your responsibility.”

“Perhaps not, but I could have tried.”

He stared at him for a moment. Never in his life had felt so seen, so understood. In fact, he had many carefully built walls to protect against just that. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you… just know everything?”

Thomas half-rolled his eyes. “I don’t know everything. I just watch, and I observe, and I try, somehow, to understand. You’re not as complicated as you wish you were, you know.”

He had a startling thought as he wondered whether anyone had ever watched him as closely as Thomas had. “Cordelia would disagree with you.”

“Hm, I just might have to share with her the secret to you, then.”

Alastair glared at him, but he was grinning now. “Don’t you dare.”

“For the record, you know… I prefer dark features. Personally, I mean.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m sure there were many striking dark-haired women back in Madrid.”

“Hm,” Thomas pondered in an exaggerated way. “I don’t know… Though, there was certainly an attractive dark-haired someone that I met when I visited Paris.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Alastair deadpanned. “Because according to you, we just shared a moment.”

Thomas cringed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten I’d said that.”

“Me? Never.”

“Does this… Does this mean we’re okay now?” Thomas was slow and cautious as he spoke.

“Yes, I think it does.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I could help you, you know, with your songs, if you wanted, once we return to London. With that one, or others. I can play the piano.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You can play the piano?”

Alastair shrugged. “Well, I used to, but I haven’t in a while.”

“Why did you stop?”

He bit his cheek as he thought. This was where he should say he grew bored of it, that it simply no longer interested him, or perhaps suggest that they should go to sleep, as they were both dreadfully tired, or even whip out a line cutting and cruel. He had meant what he’d said to Thomas, though, that he no longer wanted to be so heartless and closed off. “I don’t know… I used to play a lot with my mother when I was young. Then, life got too busy… I’d still play, but usually when my parents were fighting or when something was happening that I didn’t want Cordelia to overhear. I could just… start playing and everything else would just melt away. After a while, though, it was just hard to play without thinking about all of the bad memories.”

There was more he wished to say, about how when he returned from the Academy he believed himself to be too corrupted and too broken to deserve to create anything beautiful, but this was a start.

“I wouldn’t wish to remind you of any bad memories.”

“Perhaps we could create some good memories, then.”

“I… I’d like that.”

“We should… we should probably sleep. It’s gotten late, and we’re sure to be running around all day tomorrow.”

Thomas nodded, and they both climbed into opposite sides of a bed that once seemed far too small, but now, too wide.

The exhaustion of the day finally creeping up on him, Alastair fell asleep almost instantly.

When he woke, he found himself face first into Thomas’ night shirt.

His head rested against Thomas’ chest, Thomas’ arm around his torso, their legs intertwined. He stared for a moment into the white of Thomas’ shirt, not daring to move. Should he? They’d flirted a bit the night before, but they were hardly even friends at this point. Was this too much, too far? The other boy seemed to be sleeping soundly, though, and from the sound of Thomas’ song and the circles he’d noticed under his eyes the past few months, he suspected that sound sleep might not be coming so easily to him nowadays. Therefore, the best thing would be not to move and risk startling Thomas from his rest. Besides, the room was quite chilly, and they could use each other’s warmth.

Content with his decision to not move away from Thomas’ embrace, he allowed himself to fall back into a light, peaceful slumber, however long it would last.

It lasted, he would learn, until his little sister began banging on their door.

“Booooys,” she called. “Are you decent?”

Alastair shot out of Thomas’ arms and fell onto the floor. He quickly straightened himself and hurried over to open it. “What do you want, Cordelia?”

She grinned. “I just came to tell you that Lucie and I are eating breakfast downstairs. You should get ready.”

“You could have said that through the door.”

“I know,” she smirked.

She started down the hall, and he closed the door, silently groaning.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“She’s up to something,” he answered. “We never should have left her and Lucie alone together. They probably spent all night scheming.”

“Perhaps so,” he laughed. “Only one way to find out, though.”

Alastair sighed. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll get ready quickly and go down, and then in five, maybe ten minutes, you can follow.”

Thomas gave him an odd look, but didn’t fight it. “Alright.”

A few minutes later, he joined Lucie and Cordelia downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Lucie had her notebook and was scribbling away while Cordelia nursed a cup of tea. A cup of black coffee sat in front of the seat he was meant to sit in. He loathed English tea, compared to Persian tea it was nothing more than hot water. None of the other boys had come down yet.

“Alastair!” Lucie exclaimed when she noticed him. “Did you enjoy your night with Thomas?”

Cordelia giggled.

“I… We slept, if that’s what you are asking. That is what we were meant to do here, at an inn, wasn’t it?”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Well, it was most peculiar, when I went to request an extra blanket last night, well, it certainly was not sleeping I heard from the hallway…”

“Cordelia, you didn’t-”

“I did.”

“You heard Alastair singing-”

“He was. In Persian.”

“In Persian,” Lucie said the words succinctly with no expression on her face, as if she was laying out a fact during a murder trial.

Once again, Alastair was grateful that no one could see him blush. “Did you two actually get any rest last night or did you just spend it gossiping about me?”

“Not just you,” Lucie replied. “You and Thomas.”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

“You’re welcome, you know,” Cordelia declared smugly.

Alastair let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“It was all part of the plan, Alastair,” Lucie answered.

“It was quite brilliant, actually,” Cordelia supplied. “It was all Lucie’s idea. She knew that if we were to stay at an inn, Thomas would jump at the chance to spend a night with you.”

“And he did, as expected, without hesitation,” Lucie confirmed.

“The only issue, of course, being me, because we’d be far too obvious a pair for him to try to argue against.” Lucie nodded along to Cordelia’s explanation. “So, Lucie spent all day musing about how much she’d love to spend the night with me, just in case the opportunity arose.”

“And it did!” Lucie squealed.

“She’s been planning this since the engagement party,” Cordelia finished.

“The engagement party?” he responded incredulously. “That was ages ago!”

“And it has finally come to fruition, has it not?” Lucie babbled excitedly.

He didn’t give her the dignity of replying. “I only have one question, though - how did you know there would only be one bed?”

Lucie’s eyes widened. “There was only one bed!” she squealed as she began furiously scribbling into her notebook once again.

DISCLAIMERS: I don’t speak Farsi and the translation that Alastair makes is actually from this document. It’s the poem on page 9 and 10 if you want to check it out! Also, the song that Thomas sings isn’t mine, it’s adapted from “Like A River Runs” by the Bleachers. I tried to write something, but I’ve never experienced what Thomas has, and it’s a very beautiful song written about the loss of Jack Antonoff’s sister. You should listen to it! Though, I imagine Thomas’ version to be a bit less upbeat.

#jaimie's appreciation posts #dianasarrow #ask #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #thomastair #fanfiction #fanfic

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Chapter Summary:

Emily and JJ sleep together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Content warning: detailed descriptions of sickness, abortion mention.

—

Jennifer Jareau looked like a drowned rat.

A pretty, blonde, sniffly drowned rat that Emily Prentiss had a massive crush on.

She was soaked head to toe, her running shoes muddy and her hair slicked to her skull. She was shivering and looking absolutely miserable. Over her shoulder was her blue duffel bag full of her soccer equipment. It was a Monday, so Emily knew JJ had a practice that afternoon.

“Pen locked me out of our room,” JJ said without greeting as she walked into Emily’s room, “And I need a towel.”

“Hello to you too, Jayje,” Emily said sarcastically.

She stepped back to let her friend enter, shivering at the thought of having to play soccer in the pouring rain, let alone a rainy November afternoon when the temperature was verging on freezing. Ever since the brutal storm on Halloween, the weather had been dreary and wet.

Emily could see the field from her window, it was across the street by the Arts building. While she, and the rest of their friends, made a point to go to all of JJ’s games together and cheer her on, Emily was thankful that the weather had been ok so far, she wasn’t sure how much hypothermia she could handle for one girl.

She grabbed her bath towel and tossed it JJ’s way, and opened her closet to find a cozy sweater to offer. Well, Emily thought, she probably would take hypothermia to support JJ, she just wouldn’t be happy about it.

JJ was simultaneously drying her hair and rifling through her bag. She was still shivering from the cold.

“I left my keys when I ran out of my room this morning,” JJ explained, “And Pen promised she’d be here when it was over.”

“I think she’s teaching Hotch how to knit at his dorm,” Emily said with a laugh, having seen her Insta story a few minutes prior of Hotch struggling with his hands tangled in yarn.

“Just wish she would’ve left the door unlocked,” JJ muttered, “I think I have my spare keys in here somewhere.”

“Here, take this,” Emily said, handing her a grey hoodie with “Oxford” written on the chest, a souvenir from when she lived in England.

Emily turned around so JJ could at least get out of her wet shirt and into the sweater. For a second, the devil on her shoulder told her to look into the mirror on her closet door, that if she did she’d catch a glimpse of JJ shirtless, but Emily shook her head slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Guilt flared in her stomach at the thought.

She’s been thinking about JJ too much lately.

Their kiss. Their magical life changing kiss. The kiss to end all kisses. That was basically all Emily’s brain could focus on these days.

Before that, her fantasies about Jennifer Jareau were simply fantasies, but now! Now she had her memories. That kiss lingered on her lips and on her brain and in her dreams. Sometimes late at night Emily has found herself putting a thumb onto her cheek, closing her eyes and pretending it was JJ’s hands pulling her closer, just as she had done in the basement on Halloween.

If she had to describe how she felt, the only thing that made sense was to say that Emily was absolutely smitten with JJ.

But, and there was always a but, they hadn’t mentioned the kiss since. Not even a word of acknowledgement between the two.

The day after, when she and Derek walked to class, he interrogated her about what the hell happened , but Emily genuinely didn’t know. What she did know was that it wasn’t Emily who instigated, she thought, it was JJ who had pulled her tight and whose tongue swept across hers.

That week, Emily had grown more and more concerned that she had crossed a line. JJ had started acting strangely, looking away anytime Emily looked at her and telling her that she was too busy to hang out. Then, that weekend JJ had surprised her with a party. A party to celebrate Emily, and Reid and Hotch.

Emily realized that JJ wasn’t ignoring her, instead she was scheming something to make Emily happy. And what had she done? Cried in the bathroom and made a scene. Instead of JJ realizing that Emily was a broken shell of a girl and running far from her, JJ had held her tight and told her everything was going to be ok.

Emily didn’t tell her everything that day, not about all the awful things she did to fit in as a teen, about her mistakes, her abortion, about Matthew… Not yet. Emily had tucked all of that into a box that need not be opened up any time soon.

So now, Emily had the thoughts of JJ’s lips dancing around her brain, but also of her hand in hers, her arms around her and the way she promised she’d always be there.

This got in the way when Emily was trying to focus on other things like school or carrying on a conversation with the blonde.

JJ sneezed, startling Emily out of her thoughts. She turned back around and looked at JJ, who’s hair was slightly less wet and was now wearing her hoodie and looking a little bit warmer.

“À tes souhaits,” Emily said, saying bless you in French.

“I hope I’m not getting sick,” JJ grumbled, dumping some pens out of her backpack in search of the elusive keys. “Kennedy’s gotten half the team out with the flu.”

She sneezed again.

“Gesundheit,” Emily said, having fun with her languages.

“She got it from her boyfriend,” JJ continued, “You remember Anderson? On the water polo team?”

Emily nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her desk, watching JJ sitting on her bed in her clothes, imagining a completely different situation where she would do that. (Emily’s thoughts were full of comments like these, her imagination going wild at the prospect of JJ maybe liking her back.)

“I’m going to kill Garcia,” JJ said, “She told me she’d be in our room after our game.”

“Aha!” JJ said, pulling her lanyard out of a pencil case. “Got them. Thanks Em for the towel. You’re the best neighbour I could ever ask for.”

JJ handed it back, and Emily took the slightly damp towel and hung it up on the back of her closet.

“Anytime,” Emily said, “Though I think this may be an elaborate plot to steal all of my clothes.”

JJ looked down at herself.

“I think it suits me!”

Emily had to agree.

———

Two days later, JJ was at Emily’s door again, but looking a lot worse for wear.

A pink fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, she was wearing oversized sweatpants and a sports bra, and her hair was messy and tucked behind her ears. Her nose was red and her skin looked pale.

“Hey Em,” JJ rasped.

“You’re sick,” Emily pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Nice work, Sherlock,” she said, coughing into her blanketed arm.

“What’s up?” Emily asked, leaning on the door frame.

“I’m out of cold pills and can’t sleep,” JJ said.

“It’s like nine pm?” Emily said, the statement coming out as a question.

“I have practice at six in the morning,” JJ said, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, sniffling a little. The girl was swaying as she stood.

“You cannot actually be going to practice in that state,” Emily said.

“What state?” JJ barely managed to get out between sneezes.

“ Bless you ,” Emily said, knowing the girl definitely needed it.

Emily went to her desk, rummaging through a drawer. She found the very end of a cold and flu medicine pack, the kind with day and nighttime pills and handed them to JJ.

“Those good?” Emily asked.

JJ nodded and thanked her, before trudging back across the hall.

Before her door closed Emily said: “ Please take a break JJ!”

“I’m fine,” came the nasal voice of her friend, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose.

———

On Wednesday, JJ showed up to their weekly French study date somehow looking even more sick. There were bags under her eyes, and a wracking cough made her entire body shutter with its force.

JJ continued to insist that she was fine, despite the fact that she spent more time coughing than speaking French.

Emily was worried about her, but knew at this point, nothing she would say would make the very determined girl slow down.

———

On Thursday, Emily walked into the girls’ bathroom, toothbrush in hand before bed, and found JJ curled up on the floor next to the toilet, looking pale as a sheet.

“JJ, oh my god,” Emily said, pushing open the semi ajar door and kneeling down next to her friend.

“Mmm fine,” JJ made out, her face in her arms, not lifting her head to talk to Emily.

“This is the exact opposite of fine, JJ,” Emily said.

She had absolutely no idea how to help her.

Emily thought back to all the times she had been sick, and it had usually been whatever staff her mother had had at the time who took care of her. Nannies, cooks, assistants would bring her food, take her temperature and put buckets next to her bed. Ambassador Prentiss wasn’t the kind of mom that Emily would see on TV worried about her child when they were sick.

“Do you want water?” Emily asked, feeling helpless.

JJ shook her head, not raising it from the edge of the toilet.

“The floor is nice and cold,” JJ said, “I like it here.”

Emily almost laughed, and would have if she wasn’t so worried about the other girl.

“What do you need, JJ?” Emily asked.

“Nothing,” JJ said, “I can handle this.”

JJ’s hair hung limp around her face, and Emily leaned forward, taking the elastic from around her wrist and helped JJ pull her hair back. Emily couldn’t help, but she could at least keep JJ’s hair from getting puke on it.

Clearly hitting another wave of nausea, JJ moved, emptying the rest of her stomach into the toilet and then flushing. Emily rubbed her arm up and down her back, hoping that the motions would be comforting.

While the toilet did its thing, JJ sat back, leaning against the grey stall door, her shoulder resting against Emily’s. Her head was tilted back and her eyes closed tightly against the fluorescent lights.

“I really don’t feel good, Em,” JJ whimpered.

“I know,” Emily said, “What do you want?”

“Water,” JJ croaked.

“I’ll get some,” Emily said, patting JJ on the shoulder. JJ nodded, returning to her hunched over position on the toilet.

Emily basically sprinted down the hall, and spotting JJ’s slightly ajar door, she pushed it open to find Penelope sitting at her computer.

“Hello my beautiful goth friend,” Penelope said, “How may I be of service to you?”

“JJ’s currently puking her guts out,” Emily explained, slightly breathless, “She’s asking for water.”

“Oh my poor dear,” she said, pushing back from her desk and hurrying over to JJ’s night-side table to retrieve her water. “She told me she was going to shower, I didn’t think she was that bad.”

“She kept telling me she was fine,” Emily said, “Even while she puked.”

“Typical,” Penelope huffed, following Emily down the hall, “Can’t show any weakness. Both of you! I’m sick of it.”

Emily didn’t say anything, not sure if she could argue that accusation. She followed Penelope into the bathroom, hovering by the sink as Penelope took over her caregiving responsibilities.

She gently felt JJ’s forehead, and held up her water bottle for JJ to rinse her mouth.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Penelope said after a few minutes without any puke. “Em? Help us?

JJ stook shakily, and when Emily took her arm, JJ leaned into her, putting most of her weight on the taller girl. Penelope carried JJ’s water and shower things back for her, letting Emily take care of the dizzy JJ.

Penelope held the door open, and Emily guided JJ into bed, hovering awkwardly as JJ nestled into her bed and Penelope grabbed their trash bin and placed it next to her.

“I’ve got it from here, Em,” Penelope said, patting her on the shoulder.

“Feel better JJ,” she said, backing away, unable to take her eyes off the girl, who looked paler than she’d ever seen her.

“I miss you already,” JJ rasped out, her eyes still closed, curling up on her side and pulling the blankets up over her shoulder.

Emily smiled before leaving the room. She was worried about her but knew Penelope would take better care of JJ than Emily could ever.

———

She and Hotch spent almost five days straight crammed inside a tiny study room in the arts library working on a criminal psych presentation. It was worth almost half their grade.

They had commandeered the tiny room, booking it for the entire block of time each day, and only really leaving it to eat and sleep. At first, their friends would join them, popping in to provide moral support, but as the deadline neared, and Hotch and Emily grew more frantic, their friends mostly left them alone besides for the occasional reminder to take a break.

According to Penelope who periodically texted Emily with updates, JJ spent most of the time sleeping, and having been given time off from soccer and extensions on her school work, Penelope had finally convinced her to focus on recovery.

It was in the library when Emily began to sniffle. It was an annoying nasal drip that tickled her nose and made her feel like she constantly needed to blow her nose.

Unfortunately, she was not the kind of girl who had tissues on her. Emily wasn’t particularly well prepared in that respect. She dug through her backpack only to find a pair of tangled headphones, chapstick and two tampons. She briefly considered sticking those in her nose and calling it a day but thought Hotch would probably pass out at the sight of that.

An hour in, Hotch got so fed up with her constant sniffling that he stole a roll of paper towel from the boys washroom and threw it at her when he returned.

The scratchy paper made her nose sensitive and red. She learned about the redness when Hotch called her “Rudolph” to get her attention.

As the day ticked on, Emily began to feel either too hot, or too cold. She chalked this up to the library’s dodgy heating system and the colder November weather.

After lunch, the sneezing started.

“You’re sick, Prentiss,” Hotch told her.

“No of course not,” Emily said. “I don’t get sick. It’s just allergies.”

“What are you allergic to?”

“Uhh,” Emily looked around, “Dust?”

“Sure.”

Emily was not sick. She couldn’t afford to get sick. Sure, she had spent a lot of time in close proximity to JJ, who was still spending her most time with her face in a bin, but Emily didn’t need this now.

She was certainly aware she had had the exact conversation with JJ, encouraging the other girl to take a break to recover. Emily could talk the talk but couldn’t walk the walk on self care.

When she woke up the next morning. She felt even worse. Her throat was sore, she had a headache and she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Having given JJ all of her cold medicine, she powered through, drinking an endless barrage of hot tea, hoping it would heal her.

She had too much to do.

Days passed with Emily pushing herself to exhaustion, working all day, making it to her extra curricular meetings and only falling asleep during a few of her lectures.

The day of her presentation, Emily’s entire body hurt. She had barely slept the night before, as her sneezing kept her up. She managed to wear a pair of leggings and a sweater, but tied her hair back in a ponytail, too exhausted to do much else.

“You look like shit,” Hotch told her when she showed up to their class, shaking his head.

“Thanks, I feel like it too,” Emily quipped. “I haven’t thrown up yet though, so I count that as a victory.”

In a feat of sheer willpower, Emily made it through her presentation before collapsing into the fold out lecture hall seat, her head laid back, immediately falling asleep and sleeping through the other four group presentations.

After class, Hotch felt her forehead with his hand and announced that she had a fever. He then frog marched her straight to the clinic, pointing out that her hands shook and that she couldn’t do anything without coughing up a storm.

Emily was sure if it was not for his American Law seminar with mandatory attendance, he would be right next to her, ensuring she actually saw a doctor.

“The doctor will call you when it’s your turn dear,” the receptionist told her as she handed Emily’s student card back to her.

Emily nodded and grabbed some hand sanitizer, rubbing the cold liquid over her hands.

She sighed, which turned into a cough that tore through her lungs. She found a spot in the waiting room, under a gigantic poster about STDs. To her left was a small table covered with pamphlets about mental health resources and a big bowl of condoms.

The door to the clinic opened again and Emily shivered. The early November breeze was starting to chill her to the bone. She lifted the hood to her black sweater over her head, hoping to conserve some more heat that way.

Emily glanced at the new patient and was not entirely surprised to see JJ walking towards her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emily said as JJ walked into the waiting room.

“I hear I gave you my plague?” JJ asked, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders.

Emily nodded and coughed.

“Sorry,” JJ sat down next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, “You look a lot better than you did.”

“Hotch told me you needed an escort,” JJ said, “And I was in the neighbourhood. He said something about not trusting you to actually go to the doctor’s.”

Emily laughed at that.

“You’re my babysitter?” Emily asked.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” JJ said with a wink. “I think half of my team is out of commission with this. I’ve never been so sick, I’m glad I’m on the mend.”

Emily nodded, counting the days in her head and realizing that JJ had been out for over a week.

“You look better than you did,” Emily commented.

“Thanks,” JJ said, sarcastically, “At least I’m not puking anymore.”

“I never get sick,” Emily coughed, “I just want something for the cough and I’ll be fine.”

Emily coughed into her elbow, as if reminded.

“How did your presentation go?” JJ asked.

Emily’s heart swelled at the thought that JJ paid attention to her.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Emily said. “I feel really out of it. Hotch marched me straight here after so probably not great.”

“Emily Prentiss?” A nurse called out.

Emily gathered up her things, shot JJ a wave and went into the exam room.

Her doctor, a surly elderly white woman, with greying hair tied back in a low bun, barely looked at her, asking Emily a series of questions.

“What are your symptoms?” she finally asked.

Emily explained how her head cold transformed into something a touch more debilitating, making sure to avoid downplaying her symptoms, because she knew they would take any opportunity to send her home telling her to drink water and rest. Emily did not have time to rest.

The doctor took her vitals, listened to her lungs, grimacing at the sound of them, then took her oxygen, noting them in her chart.

Emily wasn’t a doctor but the face she made at her oxygen levels meant that they were definitely not good.

The sudden onset of chills left her shivering on the examination table as the doctor took notes on her chart.

She checked her phone, smiling as she noticed that she had a notification from the one and only cheetobreath98.

It was a selfie, taken surreptitiously from below in the waiting room, captioned, “plague lookz!”

Emily found herself smiling. A small flame with the number 27 was next to JJ’s name. They had a streak. It was childish, but the visible marker of the fact that they had talked every day for a month, sometimes for hours at a time, sending silly photos back and forth.

“You have a chest cold. Bronchitis. We want to nip it in the bud before it becomes pneumonia,” the doctor said, spinning in her chair to face her. “We see it a lot with students, you all work too hard.”

Emily nodded, not really agreeing with the sentiment, but understanding the feeling behind it. Emily had to work hard.

“Take this inhaler three times daily, at least,” he said, “And any time you’re having difficulty breathing. You can take some acetaminophen for the fever.”

He explained how to use it.

“You cannot drink, smoke or take any recreational drugs on this medication,” he warned.

Emily, who had vowed to not smoke for the duration of her illness anyways, hoping to preserve her fragile lugs, nodded.

“Try honey for the sore throat. Lots of liquids.”

She nodded.

“Come back if you’re not better in a week,” he concluded. “Your prescription will be there for pick up at the pharmacy.”

“Thanks doc,” Emily smiled, taking her leave, placing her mask back on for the hallway.

In the hall she pulled out her phone, opened Snapchat and took a selfie with the waiting room in the background.

“Ya girl’s got bronchitis!!” Emily captioned it, sending it to JJ, as well as Derek and Hotch. They would enjoy her misery.

Immediately Derek texted her.

Derek 🕺: suuuuucks bro. need some soup?

Emily: i’ll be fine but thanks

Emily: i feel like shit. the doctor gave me a puffer lol

Derek🕺: must be bad, I hear they usually just prescribe rest. Your lungs must suck

Emily: typical, id assume they’d be in pristine condition

Derek🕺: 🙄

Derek🕺: you literally smoke cigarettes

Emily laughed at her phone and walked up to the receptionist to fill out the paperwork. The nice woman smiled at her and told her to get well soon.

As JJ met her in the foyer, phone vibrated with another text.

Derek🕺: you coming back to res?

Emily: ya, hotch sent jj to baby sit me

Derek🕺: wasn’t she the one who got you sick? now shes taking care of u

Derek🕺: did u make out or something??

Emily: shut up that was before she was sick

“Get any good drugs?” JJ whispered to her conspiratorially as they walked out together.

Emily laughed louder than she expected, which manifested in wracking coughs between the two girls.

“Actually yeah,” Emily held up the prescription. “Only because you got me sick.”

“Everyone is sick, how can you be sure it was me? Anyways I had the flu, not bronchitis.”

“You’ve been cooped up with Hotch all weekend. Maybe he got you sick.”

“I don’t think Hotch can get sick,” Emily muttered.

They went to the pharmacy together, picking up Emily’s drugs. Emily also added some acetaminophen to her haul, cough drops and a pack of tissues, the kind with moisturizer per JJ’s suggestion.

As Emily waited in line to cash out, swaying a little with the exertion of standing up, JJ left for a second and then returned with a box of tea.

“I’ll make us some,” JJ said, “It’ll heal you.”

Emily felt warm, despite the chill of the store. She wasn’t sure if it was her fever or her growing love for Jennifer Jareau.

Together, they walked to their residence. Once inside, Emily wondered if JJ actually meant it when she offered the tea.

Emily opened her door, tossing her things on her desk. She took her puffer out of the bag, read the instructions before taking a dose, trying to keep the medicine in her lungs as she breathed deep, holding back the coughing.

The sun had started setting earlier and earlier as winter neared, and outside of Emily’s windows, the street lamps turned on.

Emily desperately wanted it to work. She felt like a zombie, exhausted and either too hot or two cold all at once.

She changed into a pair of pyjama pants, a black crewneck sweater with a band logo on the chest, and a pair of fuzzy socks, and pulled a blanket around her shoulders, wondering if she should just crawl into bed or if JJ’s offer still stood.

“Em!” JJ called out as she knocked on her door, “Kettle’s boiling.”

Emily’s heart soared. The sentence felt so… domestic. She hurried across the hall, inhaler in hand (just in case), standing hesitantly in the doorway. JJ had changed into grey sweatpants and a soft green hoodie with her gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, looking much comfier than she had.

“Sit down!” JJ encouraged, “If you feel as gross as I do, you’ll need it.”

Emily did, relaxing on JJ’s bed, leaning into the mountain of comfortable pillows and breathing a sigh of relief in not standing any longer. A deep exhaustion had settled into bones, not helped by the long lecture that morning and the clinic visit.

JJ walked over, handing her a mug and sitting on the bed next to her, taking a sip of her own mug.

It was the same tea as before, sleepy time, with the warm combination of chamomile, mint, and other fruity tastes greeting her like a hug. She clutched it with two hands, enjoying how the mug radiated heat and warmed her chilly fingers.

“Thank you,” Emily managed, her voice sounding a bit less scratchy to her ears than before.

“Any time,” JJ replied, “It’s nice to have company.”

Emily looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Should she stay? Was she welcome to hang out? Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay, she didn’t want JJ to see how gross she was with her messy hair, stuffy nose and endless sneezing.

JJ clearly looked better than she did earlier that week, Emily taking her place as token invalid in residence.

“I was going to watch tv,” JJ said, “I don’t think I could handle doing homework right now.”

“Oh I’ll go,” Emily said, taking the hint and moving to climb off the bed. JJ’s arm stuck out, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her.

“No, Em,” JJ said, “I was wondering if you wanted to join me. ”

Oh. Emily felt her face break into a smile. She relaxed into the bed as JJ grabbed her laptop and set it between them, she pulled a fluffy sky-blue blanket, and draped it over her legs, then over Emily’s.

There was the noise of keys in the door, Emily felt herself pull away from JJ, leaning away from her friend as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

Penelope Garcia opened the door, followed shortly after by Derek Morgan who was carrying two large take out bowls of soup.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Derek said, handing each of them a bowl.

“How are my two sick dears?” Penelope cooed, as she collected a textbook from her desk.

Emily tried to speak, coughing instead, and JJ reached out to steady her bowl, knowing that she would spill if she wasn’t careful.

She decided not to acknowledge Derek's comment because even Emily didn’t know she would be in JJ’s room, how could he?

“Just about as bad as you would expect,” JJ said.

Emily nodded, recovering from her fit.

“We won’t keep you!” Penelope replied, “we have a study date! Enjoy your movie night. Don’t forget to text me if either of you need anything tonight. I’ll be back late.”

Penelope looked at them and frowned.

“I may quarantine away from you, I do not want to catch that.”

“Get some sleep, guys” Derek said. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Emily said, thick with sarcasm.

“Toodles!” Penelope said as they left.

The door shut, and the two girls began to sip the soup. It was chicken noodle and had cooled to the perfect temperature.

“What do you wanna watch?” JJ asked between spoonfuls.

Emily thought about her comfort tv and movies: The X Files. Or Star Trek: The Voyage Home (the one with the whales, exclusively, because she finds it silly and always makes her feel better). They were so nerdy. She couldn’t look JJ in the eye and reveal how much of a nerd she was.

“I’m not sure,” she said instead, “Did you have something in mind?”

“I usually watch cooking shows,” JJ said, “To be honest. Or Gilmore Girls, Parks and Rec, or-”

JJ stopped herself.

“Or what?” Emily prodded.

“Twilight ,” JJ admitted.

Emily laughed.

“I haven’t seen it,” Emily commented, “I missed that phase I guess.”

“Oh you have to,” JJ said, getting excited, “It’s fantastic. And bad. It’s both at once. I was team Edward.”

Emily knew that was the vampire; she didn’t live under a rock, she just hadn’t actually seen the films.

JJ began to babble, between coughs, about how as a kid she read each book as they came out, and even had a poster of the cast on her wall. Emily simply basked in her company and the excitement of watching something she cared about.

Emily found herself cuddled up next to JJ, eating their soup and watching Twilight .

Between the warmth of JJ’s bed, the soothing soup and finally relaxing, Emily suddenly felt slightly better. Maybe taking a break to recover was actually a good thing.

Emily almost laughed at the thought that it only took a case of bronchitis to get her in JJ’s bed.

As the movie wore on, Emily’s exhaustion, and full stomach overtook her. The two girls wrapped in a blanket made it quickly warm and comforting, and as Bella discovered that Edward was a vampire, Emily felt her eyelids drooping.

She tried to fight the feeling, but soon, Emily was fast asleep next to JJ.

———

Emily woke up, hours later, in the dark with another blanket wrapped around her, JJ’s laptop nowhere in sight and no memory of anything she had just watched.

JJ was curled up into her side and was snoring quietly.

Emily stiffened, at the reality of her current situation. She needed to relax or she would wake JJ up. Her back was to the wall, and JJ’s prone body blocked her exit.

Her mind moved a mile a minute. JJ must’ve put away the laptop and given her another blanket, chosen not to wake Emily up. She wanted to sleep in the same bed.

What did this mean? Did JJ want to sleep next to her? Did JJ like her?

She thought hard about this, but she knew there was no way this was romantic . This must just be how close, female friendships went. Emily’s feelings for JJ were clouding her judgment.

Emily was never invited to sleepovers, or had any close girl friends before, this is probably just what she was missing out on.

God, she thought, maybe it’s good that nobody liked me. I would have caught feelings and made it weird. Just like I’m doing right now.

Emily examined JJ’s face, which was only inches from her own. Gazing at each freckle, her long light brown eyelashes, her perfect eyebrows. Her pink lips were slightly parted, brealths coming out softly.

JJ shifted closer, as she, in her sleep, was probably moving toward Emily’s warmth unconsciously.

Emily closed her eyes and basked in that moment.

Before she knew it, JJ rolled around onto her other side, and Emily was left staring at the back of her blonde head.

Missing the warmth, Emily tugged the blanket further around her shoulders.

Emily looked around JJ’s darkened room, at the empty bed across the room. Penelope, true to her word, was elsewhere. For a second, Emily wondered whose bed she was sleeping in, but the strong urge to cough overtook her, distracting her from that train of thought.

She rolled onto her back, coughing into her elbow, trying to stifle them so that she did not wake JJ. Unfortunately, the coughs kept coming, and Emily found herself struggling to breathe. She sat up, and before she knew what was happening, JJ was awake and sitting next to her with a comforting hand on her back, and Emily’s inhaler in hand.

“Hey you’re ok,” JJ whispered, running her hand up and down her back, “It’s ok baby.”

Emily tried to catch her breath, taking her medicine and trying to hold it into her lungs, before coughing again. Her entire body shook with them, and it brought forth the aching that permeated her entire entire body.

The coughs slowed, and she fell back into JJ, whose arms wrapped around her as she made soothing noises.

“You ok?” JJ asked, her own voice still sounding a bit hoarse.

Emily nodded, whimpering, and JJ handed her a water bottle. Emily thought for a second before taking it, knowing that she had already caught JJ’s sickness anyways.

JJ’s strong arms wrapped around her, supporting her limp frame as she drank water and calmed back down, before moving away to let Emily lay back down.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” JJ said, “You were out halfway through the first movie and I knew you definitely needed the rest.”

Emily nodded, bracing for JJ to ask her to leave, but that didn’t come.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked.

“Better,” Emily croaked. “My lungs still hurt.”

“Do you still have a fever?” JJ asked, moving her hand to feel Emily’s forehead.

Emily closed her eyes at the gentle touch.

“You’re hot,” JJ said, tutting at ther.

“Don’t you know it, babe,” Emily said, without thinking.

Her eyes shot open, and she began to stutter, trying to backtrack what she said. JJ began to laugh.

“Miss Prentiss is cocky when she’s feverish,” JJ said, grinning at her.

Emily felt herself blush, but hoped JJ would take that as her fever and not her embarrassment.

“It’s late, Em,” JJ said, “Go back to sleep.”

There it was. An invitation to continue sharing her bed. Emily relaxed, closing her eyes.

This time, she didn’t quickly fall asleep, finding herself feeling tense in JJ’s bed, not wanting to do anything that would be seen as suspicious.

Was she lying too close? Was she moving too much? Was she allowed to cuddle up to JJ? Did girls cuddle with each other?

Over Thanksgiving weekend last year, when she visited the Morgans with Derek, she and he shared his childhood bed. It was not like this, with the two of them fighting for blankets, kicking each other, and grumbling like siblings. Then, Emily didn’t feel this fluttering in her stomach or the desire to sniff the other persons hair. Well, Derek barely had any hair to sniff.

Emily forced herself to relax, to take as deep breaths as her lungs could manage and to try to fall back asleep.

Some time passed, with Emily breathing slightly congested breaths in and out, as JJ tossed and turned a bit, moving around to get comfortable.

Emily faded in and out of consciousness, right on the verge of sleep when movement on the bed told her that JJ had rolled again, and was now facing her. She could sense that JJ was looking at her, but didn’t open her eyes to confirm, still verging on sleep.

She must have assumed that Emily was fast asleep, because the other girl turned to face Emily, and did something that Emily didn’t expect, nor knew exactly what to do with.

JJ had kissed Emily’s forehead, softly, and Emily’s sleep deprived, feverish brain was not sure if it had actually happened, or if she had hallucinated.

It took everything in Emily to not react, forcing her eyes closed and her body still, keeping her breathing steady. then rolled onto her side as if nothing had happened.

Emily didn’t have the capacity to process the kiss, or the rush of emotions it conjured, so she decided that it was simply a figment of her imagination.

Both girls fell asleep shortly after.

———

The second time Emily woke in JJ’s bed, the sun was up and the room was bathed in golden light. Emily felt warm and safe, and compared to the previous day, her body wasn’t aching as much. Emily opened her eyes and found that she was not only laying face to face with a sleeping JJ, but their limbs were tangled, as both of them had apparently decided to cuddle the other in their sleep.

Emily’s legs were wrapped up in JJ’s, her right leg between JJ’s, and the blonde’s arm was thrown casually around Emily’s shoulder, holding her close.

This time, Emily didn’t panic, and relished the embrace of JJ. She knew that she wasn’t likely to get a chance to be this close to her again, without the excuse of a fever, so she wasn’t going to ruin it.

Despite her best efforts, JJ’s eyes blinked open, as if sensing that Emily was awake.

Emily pulled away, yawning, attempting to untangle their limbs.

“Why hello there,” JJ whispered, giggling at her.

“Hi,” Emily whispered, smiling back at JJ.

“You look a lot better,” JJ commented, reaching out and fixing Emily’s bangs for her.

“I feel better,” she said, “Less like I’m on the verge of death.”

“We can’t have you dying, Em,” she replied, “Who else would I cuddle with?”

Emily smiled at her.

JJ sat up, stretching, revealing a slip of her lower back as the hem of her sweater rose above her waist. Emily did the same, sitting crossed legged in her bed, still wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the room. JJ was lucky and her bed was near the radiator, keeping them toasty warm despite the chilled fall air.

Emily peeked outside, watching fall leaves fly through the sky, patterning the courtyard with a blanket of leaves. JJ stood, put on her slippers, and took a drink of water, before offering it to Emily.

Taking the water bottle, Emily sipped it awkwardly, completely unsure what to do with herself. All her experiences being in someone else’s bed had usually also involved her leaving quickly after, or at least in the morning before the other woke up. Now, Emily was watching JJ fuss with her hair in the mirror in the golden light of day.

“I’m starving,” JJ said, “What time is it?”

Emily grabbed JJ’s phone, seeing the time. It was 6:30am, long before she ever normally woke up. She must have fallen asleep earlier than she thought.

“Cafs aren’t open yet,” Emily said, “It’s only 6:30.”

“Do you like omelettes?” JJ asked.

———

Fifteen minutes later, Emily was seated in the tiny dorm kitchen at the end of their floor, wrapped in a blanket, with another steaming cup of tea in her hands, watching JJ flip an omelette in a pan.

Apparently JJ is one of the few people to use the kitchen—besides Emily and her cookies—to use the kitchen for more than instant noodles and pizza pockets.

She had eggs in the fridge, and diced frozen vegetables in the freezer, and quickly whipped up a delicious breakfast for the two of them in minutes, chatting the entire time.

“Oooh,” JJ said as she pulled out her carton of eggs, “I should get some apple cider. Someone’s got a massive jug in here and I’m dying for some.”

“I’ve never liked apple cider,” Emily said, taking a gulp of her tea.

The hot tea—and her doctor prescribed medicine—was clearing her sinuses and Emily felt like she was breathing fully for the first time in days.

“That’s impossible,” JJ said, matter-of-factly, as she cracked an egg into a bowl. “It’s the best thing ever.”

Emily shrugged, “I’ve only had it once and it wasn’t that good.”

“If I wasn’t a good person, I would steal this person’s cider and make you try it,” JJ said, gesturing with a spatula.

JJ turned and busied herself with adding the veggies to the pan, sautéing them in butter and some seasoning.

“We should go to the fair, together,” JJ blurted, “I mean. All of us.”

“I’ve also never been to a fair,” Emily said with another shrug. “I have to remind you that I’ve barely lived in the US, and when I did, I was trapped in stuffy private schools.”

JJ gave her a look that, if it was from anyone else, would look pitying.

“It’s decided,” JJ said, plopping the omelette onto Emily’s plate. “When you feel better, we’re going to the fair.”

“It’s a date.”

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

Text

Matthew Luther and the Results and the Relay, part 1/2

The waves ebbed and flowed over the white sand, the sun beating down overhead. There were no other sounds, apart from the sound of splashing feet in the shallower water. One of the two pairs belonged to Matthew Luther.

“It’s weird,” he said, walking through the water with his companion in hand, “I’ve never been to a beach without any rocks whatsoever.”

“Of course you haven’t, Matthew.” said Merula, smirking. “What are we doing here?”

“I...I don’t know.” he confessed, looking around. Beyond the white sand, he could make out Hogwarts in the distance, and the forest between them. “I don’t think we’re in Scotland anymore, Merula.”

Merula smiled, moving closer to him. “Of course we aren’t!”

“Yeah, if we were the weather wouldn’t be this nice.” he pointed out. Merula laughed at that, and everything felt...right for Matthew. Suddenly, dark clouds appeared in the sky.

“You had to say it, didn’t you?” Merula asked. “I’ll...um, see you around, Matt.”

She kissed him on the cheek, and with that, she turned to leave.

“Wait!” yelled Matthew, the water slowly rising around him, “Where are you going?! And since when did you call me Matt?!” The water covered him completely, and there was a burst of thunder. Then, there was a loud crack of lighting, and-

“Gah!” Matthew exclaimed, opening his eyes. Danny, his cat, scrambled off of his face, allowing him to breathe. He brought his hand to chest, calming himself down. He looked at the time. It was ridiculously early. He sighed, and fell back onto his bed. Danny quickly returned to his position by Matthew’s feet. But the Ravenclaw had other things on his mind. He’d had a dream about Merula. Again. The first dream had been relatively similar to this one, though that time the lake had frozen over, and Merula hadn’t kissed him at all. He turned red as he contemplated where exactly these dreams were going. It occurred to him that he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, and so he turned the noise muffler on the side of his bed up to full, and pulled out a black guitar case. In it was an acoustic guitar with several blue runes engraved into the wood. He had found it while facing a changeling before Christmas, and had slowly been re-teaching himself how to play it.

Matthew flicked through the notebook his father had given him. There was a section titled “Songs to never play in a guitar shop.” It had one entry: Stairway to Heaven. Matthew chuckled at that, pulling the guitar up and beginning to play. He found it very useful, as it sort of calmed down his constantly-whirring brain. There were three reasons to play today. First, of course, that dream, secondly was because it was results day for their exams, and thirdly because it was the Dragon Relay. Matthew shook his head, trying to force out any fears of what would happen. Suddenly, there was a tapping sound from the nearby window. He peeked out of the curtains of his four-poster bed to see an eagle on the windowsill outside. Matthew merely smirked, and opened the window.

“Morning, Talbott.” he whispered, letting the eagle inside. It perched on the empty four-poster bed in the room and ruffled its feathers, before promptly transforming into a fourteen-year-old in his pyjamas.

“And to you, Matthew.” Talbott began, as Matthew closed the window once again. “You were up early. Again.”

“Actually, I’ve only just woken up.” Matthew explained, placing the guitar back in its case. “Besides, it's not like today is what you’d call a stress-free day, right?”

Talbott nodded. “I suppose. But I can’t see why you of all people are stressed. You are above and beyond most of our class in almost every subject.”

“I mean, I guess...” Matthew admitted, “But I’m still worried. Just...you know, worst-case scenario, that sort of thing. But more than that, it’s the Dragon Relay today.”

“Ah, of course.” said Talbott. “I hope you raise enough money. I don’t really go for Dragon Club, but I see that it is important, so I will be attending too.”

Matthew smiled. “Thanks, Talbott. That’s...well, it’s a ringing endorsement if you’re coming.”

There was a silence. “Should we get breakfast?” Matthew asked.

“Very well.” Talbott replied, closing his bed’s curtains so he could change.

By the time they had got down to the Great Hall, a few others were in there already. Among them was Chiara Lobosca, sitting at the Hufflepuff table. She waved at the two, and moved across to the other side of the table so she could talk to them. Matthew found himself smiling.

“Morning, you two!” she said cheerily. “So, Dragon Relay today! Are you two excited?”

“Well, considering I’ve helped organise it, yeah!” admitted Matthew, as other members of Ravenclaw arrived.

“Time to show the school what Ravenclaws’ got!” yelled Andre, carefully moving his scarf away from Matthew’s cereal. “Ah, hey Chiara! Looking stylish, as always!”

Chiara gave that soft, sweet laugh that she always did. Matthew smiled. He was so glad that Chiara was now talking to people; it made him happy to see her more and more. It was then that she pointed out that Matthew’s hand was now in his bowl.

“Gah!” he exclaimed, pulling out his wand. “Scourgify.” he muttered, the milk slowly vanishing from his hand, as Rowan sat down next to him. “Sorry, guess I’m just tired.” he said, his cheeks now a deep red. Right in front of Chiara, too…

“It’s alright, Matt.” she reassured him, smiling. “Nice spellwork by the way.”

“Th-thanks...” he stammered over his own embarrassment. Rowan looked on in surprise. Matthew’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh, right, I gave Chiara ‘Matt’ privileges.” he explained. There were a few gasps, followed by some nods and ‘Nice one”’s from those nearby. Matthew didn’t let just anyone call him ‘Matt’, preferring to go by Matthew. If you had ‘Matt’ privileges, you were automatically cooler. Talbott smiled.

“Well, we are all glad that you managed to help Matthew to get over breaking that statue.” he said. “Without it, we would not have had...a party today...hmm...”

“It was the least I could do, really.” she said, pushing her hair back. Matthew had to stop himself from smiling too much. It was very difficult.

“Oi, Luther!”

The group turned around to see Merula walking over. Matthew gave a small wave, relieved at the distraction for a brief moment. Then he remembered exactly what he had been dreaming about that morning, and quickly tried to push it out of his head. He failed miserably.

“Well, this Dragon Relay better be something, Luther.” she sneered, sitting down at the Slytherin table. “I will beat you at everything of course.” She suddenly noticed Chiara standing next to the group. “Oh...so you’ve added a new member to the cult, have you?”

“Haven’t you got a cult of your own?” Talbott asked. “You’ve got Ismelda, Barnaby’s re-joined you, you’ve made up with Tulip, all those Puffsk-”

“Anyway!” she said loudly. “I will see you there, Luther.”

“You can call me Matt, if you want.” Matthew reminded her. “You did help me in the Cursed Vaults, after all.”

Merula scoffed. “Those that call you Matthew are below you. Those who call you...uh, ‘Matt’, are only equal to your level. Quidditch, duelling, exam results...I call you Luther because I am above you in every way, shape and form.”

Matthew got up and walked over, and the people nearby had to cover their mouths. “Um, I somehow doubt you’re um, above me, Merula.” to which those nearby started giggling at their five-inch height difference. At this distance to her he felt a strong sense of Deja vu, and an even stronger temptation to grab her hand as he’d done in the dream.

She smirked and walked off, before remembering she had to eat breakfast, and so sat back down far away from Matthew. But, for some reason, every time he looked up at her, she was looking at him. He didn’t point it out, but put it in the back of his head as the group discussed the upcoming results.

“Matthew?” asked Rowan, as they headed to Herbology.

“Yes, Rowan?” Matthew asked, snapping back to reality quickly.

“Look...we’re friends, right?” he asked.

“Of course.” Matthew replied. “Why, what do you want?”

Rowan gave a fake laugh. “Wh-who said I wanted anything?”

“You only play this card when you want something.” Matthew said with a smile.

Rowan smiled back. “It’s just...well, you know how you gave Chiara ‘Matt’ privileges?” Matthew nodded, his cheeks going slightly pink. “Well, and this is Andre’s words not mine, you may have had an...um, ulterior motive.”

Matthew stopped in his tracks. “Rowan Khanna, how dare you accuse me of something so low-brow. I would never use the sacred principle of ‘Matt’ privileges to...well, to get with girls!”

Rowan nodded. “Yeah, I know that. Penny’s still wondering when she’s getting hers.”

“I’ll let Penny call me Matt when you let her call you Ro-Ro.”

It was then their turn to blush. ‘Matt’ privileges were one thing, but ‘Ro-Ro’ was for the very cream of the crop.

“Alright, everyone, gather round, that’s it!” Professor Sprout’s voice boomed across the Greenhouse. “We’ll be checking in with the Venomous Ivy today, so dragonhide gloves on!” There was a shuffling as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs both looked through their bags. Matthew pulled out his gloves (made from a Hebridean Black Dragon, a Doherty family heirloom, according to his mother). Chiara, who Matthew had ‘wound up’ next to, pulled out her own, clearly from a Welsh Green. The Ravenclaw’s paranoia, which had been dormant for the last few days, suddenly reared its head. Do not try and start a conversation based on dragonhide gloves, you dolt! Matthew felt inclined to agree with it. He didn’t think there was much to talk about regarding Venomous Ivy. He looked over at the silver-haired girl, who smiled back at him. Matthew sighed. He would have to save his confidence for the Dragon Relay.

“Woah!” came a voice to Matthew’s left, followed by a loud crash. He looked over to see Tonks on the floor, a dragonhide glove somehow on her nose (from a Swedish Short Snout.)

“Blimey, Tonks, are you okay?” Matthew asked, moving over to help her up.

“Yeah...you know me, just clumsy.” Tonks lamented, putting her gloves on. “Sorry for interrupting your, uh, quality time over there.”

Matthew blushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “God, did Andre tell everyone about his little ‘theory’?” he asked.

“Is it really a theory?” Tonks chuckled, as Matthew moved over to the storage cupboard. “I wouldn’t be surprised if by now you’d started dreaming about Chiara.”

“Merula.” Matthew corrected automatically, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Tonks came to a halt.

“Did you just say...Merula?” Tonks asked, quickly moving closer so they could talk in private. Matthew kept looking through the cupboard, despite having found everything he needed. It appeared that his brain had short-circuited.

“I...um...what?” he spluttered, “Wh- Merula? Did I...what was the question?”

Tonks smirked knowingly. “I asked if you’d dreamt about Chiara, and you said ‘Merula’.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, as he slowly closed the cupboard door and walked back to the Venomous Ivy. He took a long, deep sigh. “Can...can you keep a secret?”

Tonks gasped, before quickly focusing on her own Ivy. “Come on, Matthew, I’m never one to gossip. Mostly. But I won’t tell a soul about this. Now...what happened?”

“Nothing...too bad, okay?!” Matthew began. “We...um, we were on the beach...together...holding hands...what?” he asked, as Tonks leant forward.

“Keep going.” she said with bated breath.

“Okay...we talked a bit...we laughed, then this thunderstorm appeared and she...um Merula, well the dream Merula she...kissed me. On the cheek though, that was it! Anyway...then the sea rose, this lightning came down, and I woke up.”

Tonks nodded, slowly digesting what Matthew had told her. “And...no dreams about Chiara.”

“Well, she appears in them too, but she’s never...well...” he trailed off, gazing down at his Venomous Ivy. It thrashed its vines towards him as he approached, but recoiled as he poured water onto its leaves. It turned in the flow of the water, allowing the water to catch the leaves and fall down into the gutter.

“Excellent, Luther! Your Ivy really trusts you! Very impressive!” Professor Sprout pointed out. “It’s a lot like taming a creature, really?”

“Okay...” said Tonks, once Sprout had moved away. “That doesn’t sound too bad...”

“That isn’t the problem.” confessed Matthew. “This...isn’t the first time I’ve dreamt about her. And Merula knows she’s been in there once.”

Tonks gulped. “Right...crikey, if she finds out she’s been in your dreams multiple times...”

“I’ll never hear the end of it.” Matthew concluded. “And I need everything to go well today. But, knowing my luck...”

“You know, maybe you could talk to someone about this. Someone who sort of gets this romance thing. I’ve got to prepare for this party and stress about the results, so my schedule is packed.”

Matthew nodded. “Yeah...I’ll talk to someone like that. Someone cool.”

“Dennis found that story hilarious, Matthew Luther!” Tulip laughed, as she, her toad, and Matthew sat in the now tidier Dragon Club. “And, while I appreciate the ‘Matt’ privileges for my help in the Nightmare Vault, I have given them to Dennis instead.”

“Perfectly understandable, Tulip.” he reassured her. “I guess I wanted to see you because you’re friends with both of them. Also, you aren’t Diego.”

Tulip nodded. “Diego Caplan knows very little about dating, despite what he tells you. I’m glad you came to me.” Dennis croaked, scratching the Dungbomb on his back with one of his legs.

“So..I guess I’m just confused. I mean, I...I think I like Chiara, but...maybe I’m just distracting myself from Merula...I don’t know...maybe I’m just not ready for dating yet.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Tulip responded. “In fact, it’s probably for the best. I suppose what you’ve got to ask is this: do you want your relationship with Chiara or Merula to change? And, at the same time, do they want it to change?”

Matthew thought about this for a moment. He liked Chiara, and having her hang out with his friends was...well, enough, and he was pretty sure that she felt the same way too. For now, perhaps, said a voice in his head which sounded horribly like Edwin the changeling. He ignored it. So that wasn’t a problem. Merula, on the other hand, was. He did indeed want things to change between the two. But not like that! Said one voice. Then how? You’ve actually kissed her, haven’t you? Said another. Tulip could see he was struggling.

“You don’t have to decide right away, Matthew Luther. But allow the question to guide what you do during the Dragon Relay tonight. After all...” she smirked. “These are two of our hottest friends we’re talking about.”

They spent a while laughing and complimenting their friends, until it soon became time for the Relay to begin.

“You will do fine, Matthew Luther.” she declared, as they left for the School Grounds. “This is one of your closest friends and one of your closest rivals. The strangeness of dreams will not change this.”

Matthew nodded. “No, I suppose not.” He felt ready, and he honestly was. His only difficulty from that point until the fundraiser began was struggling to not laugh when he saw Diego with a guitar case. He remembered what his father had said about those who bring their guitars to parties, and suddenly felt a surge of confidence. He could do this.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfiction #merula x jacob's sibling #merula x mc #chiara lobosca #merula snyde #hphm tonks #tulip kasaru

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

Dreams That Walk, Nightmares That Talk, Chapter 6

Ben's been visiting the Mindscape every day since he was born. Once he brought something back, and twenty years later, Marie García is still picking out the pieces.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

A quiet little cafe outside the mall. Sunny day, mist drifting down from the overhanging roof. A table, with Marie, Ben, and an empty popcorn bag between their plates.

“So there’s blood spurting everywhere.”

Ben takes a bite of his burger. “Mmhm.”

“It’s like right from his carotid, you know, so it was absolutely coating the ceiling.” Marie chuckles and makes a motion. “I sprint over there, I clamp the thing - it was like half a second but I still got sprayed - and we just had to get him back on the stretcher and get that thing stitched up as fast as possible. God, I was covered in blood that day.”

“Can’t be the worst thing you were covered in.”

“Wha- oh, hah!” She cackles with him. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad, it was just a lot. Anyway, that was yesterday for me. How’s moving in?”

Ben’s still chewing. She smiles, waits for him to finish. Taps the fork one two - dammit - three times against her plate, and then puts it down. She has fries, what is she doing.

“Going alright.” Ben starts, and then swallows. “Excuse me. Yeah, everything’s all pretty much set up.”

“That’s good!”

“Yeah, it’s been good. So far the neighbors seem quieter, so that’s something.”

“Oh, yeah, jeez. I know you guys were having a problem with that.”

“Matthew was, yeah.” He picks up a fry. “I can sleep through anything.”

Then he sticks it in his mouth, and Marie feels her smile go a bit crooked. She laughs, after a moment.

“You sure can, sweetie.” She can’t see it, hidden under his shirt, but she stares anyway. “You sure… yeah.”

“So how are you?”

“Huh? Oh, I already told you about the hospital, sweetie.”

Ben eats another fry. Chews. Lets the silence hang.

“Um… heh, it’s nice weather today, right? Always sunny down here, haha, it’s great! Anyways, how’s exams going, sweetie?”

Ben swallows. He opens his mouth, pauses, and…

“Just had my midterms,” he says. Marie lets out a breath. “Still waiting to hear back, but I think it’ll be okay.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She smiles. “I think you’ll be okay too, Ben. You’re smart, you’re funny, you got Matthew, you got your apartment-”

“I have you.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah!” She watches Ben pick out a fry, and hold it for a moment. “Yeah, uh… yep. You not hungry, sweetie?”

Ben doesn’t say anything. He looks like he wants to.

“Sweetie?”

“Are you okay?”

Marie freezes. She tries for a laugh.

“Wh-huh- what? Oh, I’m okay-”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I… I got a therapist, don’t worry about me.” No response. She grips the table a bit. “Hey, you… you didn’t want me talking to you about that kind of stuff, don’t worry.”

“And I’m not trying to catch you out. I brought it up.”

“...Okay.”

Ben chews over his words. Then he leans abruptly forwards. “Look, Mom, I don’t want to make you feel guilty-”

“And you’re not.” She puts a hand over his - he flinches away, she grimaces. “Ben, you’re not. You’re amazing. You’re wonderful. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to-”

“Please stop.”

Marie’s mouth clamps shut. Silence. Awful, awful silence. She watches Ben sit there, rubbing his temples.

“Just…” he starts. “Just stop doing that thing where you compliment me, like that. I know you’re not doing that to make me feel better. You’re doing that to feel bad about yourself.”

“I- That’s not what I meant!”

“It is, though.”

“No, I…” She can hear her voice getting louder; she trails off. “I just, I didn’t mean… I don’t know what to say. I-I don’t want to argue with you.”

Ben doesn’t reply. The fries chill on his plate, and she shivers.

“Ben, I-”

“I’m sorry,” he says, pauses, and then: “You were right. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It always goes about this well, doesn’t it.”

Ben doesn’t smile, but there’s a twisted joke in there that lifts Marie’s lips. “Yeah… you’re not wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” He sits up a bit. “Maybe we can talk about something else.”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay.” Ben picks up his clean fork. “Matt got a plant yesterday. For the kitchen.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, a cactus. Pricked my hand on it yesterday before he mentioned it to me.”

“Oh no!”

“Don’t worry. Didn’t hurt for long. And I know where it is now.”

Marie takes a bite of one of her fries. It’s stone cold, and tastes like ash in her mouth.

“That’s good,” she says, looking down at her guilty hands. “Good to know where those things are.”

______________________________________________________________

Work. Marie had missed those mindless hours. She’s always worn out on the car ride home, but shifts at the hospital seem to settle her mind; she feels a few steps back from the edge, less twitchy, less reckless, less… less.

She drives home with hands that don’t squeeze the steering wheel, and something in her thinks that she might not have so much trouble sleeping tonight.

And it’s good. It’s good. It feels like she’s finally over the worst of it… for however long it’ll last.

The lights are on in her house as she pulls up. She gets out, locks the car three times, and opens the door. There’s the sound of some sort of movie going on in the living room; Marie walks in and sees Alcor sprawled across her couch with a bowl of popcorn.

He waves. She eyes his feet on the couch, and he seems to know to move them.

“Oh, sorry. Hey, how was work?” Alcor watches her move towards the kettle. “Oh, you don’t have to turn that on. I just boiled it.”

Marie touches the side, and draws her hand back with a smile. “Thanks. Work was good, I had an amputation today.” She gets out a cup. “Wasn’t a car accident for once, it was a, uh, woodchipper. Interesting case. How about you?”

He coughs. “Wow, um, well, my day was pretty uneventful. I mean I was summoned a few times, but they weren’t really dangerous cultists or anything. One of them wanted their neighbor’s house sprayed yellow so he’d get kicked off the HOA board.”

“Ugh, HOAs.” She snorts and sips her tea. “I got in a fight with mine once. Jerks didn’t let us build a swing set for Ben in our backyard.”

“Aww, that sucks.”

“Yeah, that’s why this house-” she raps the counter. “-doesn’t have one. I don’t even know who my neighbors are, and that’s how I like it.”

Alcor chuckles at that. Marie’s eyes are drawn to the TV; it looks like some show she’s seen him watch before.

“What’s on?”

“Huh?” He looks over. “Oh, just some Ducktective. Wanna watch?”

“No… I should be getting to bed. I will steal some popcorn though.”

“Of course you will.” He rolls his eyes as she grabs a piece. “Night, Dr García.”

“Night.”

She drinks the rest of the tea, puts the cup in the dishwasher… then pauses, and looks back at Alcor. He’s already gone back to lounging on the couch; she can’t see most of him, but one silhouetted wing is draped over the arm. It sways a little as she watches, gently.

Marie takes a breath. “Alcor?”

“Yes?” He turns around, his golden eyes shining bright from his shadow. “What is it?”

She studies his face for a few moments. It’s sincere, friendly even… but the burning in her eyelids makes her hesitate. Maybe she should save this for another time.

“Nevermind. I’ll ask you in the morning.”

“Oh… okay. Night!”

“Goodnight.”

With something like a smile, she shuffles off to bed.

#transcendence au #toothwrites #ben #marie #Ben Can't Sleep

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immabethehero · 4 years

Text

Schneeplestein Apparently Has a Heart

The good doctor’s birthday is here and of course I wrote a story! Just warning, this story is quite dark. Read the trigger warnings below.

TW: Suicide attempt by gunshot (not seen, just implied), suicidal thoughts and words, extreme distress, minor violence, blood mentioned.

For the short amount of time that Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent have lived with Dr. Henrik Nicholas von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, they have learned a few important lessons, or rules:

NEVER, under any circumstances, touch the top left cupboard on the outside of the kitchen opening. That’s where Schneep’s coffee supply is, and if you touch it, even ONCE, Schneep will be out for your blood.

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you mention Schneep’s wife, Lisette Schneeplestein. Apparently, the French brunette whom Schneep has been married to for the past 7 years has fucked off (Schneep’s words) back to France with her tennis instructor, Rick, short for Ricardo (Italian, apparently) and taken their two daughters with her. (Schneep has cleaned out Lisette and the girls’ rooms, and all the belongings they have left behind, in their efforts to leave so quickly, are packed away in storage containers in the garage. Schneep has yet to mail them to Lisette’s new address.)

DO NOT wake Schneep earlier than 10 AM in the morning if it’s his one day off. Despite having an early bird’s job, Schneep is not a morning person. Another reason why Schneep is dependent on coffee.

UNLESS it is an emergency, no one but Schneep is allowed in his office. As there are so many things to keep track of, and so many papers that could easily be misplaced, it is best not to touch, or even go inside the office, lest you want to throw the doctor off his game or have the doctor throw you off a cliff.

Despite these four unspoken yet very specific rules, Marvin and Jackie have learned one more this past month: despite the doctor’s arrogant, haughty, snappy, disgusting, even FERAL demeanour, he truly is a good person.

It just took a new ego to show them that.

March 30th, 2017. Schneep’s mail has been unceremoniously thrown onto the dining room table. Schneep’s hands, long and graceful, slide through the envelopes and fliers, organizing them into piles, from taxes and business inquiries to subscriptions and sales.

Jackie lazily eats his cereal, watching Schneep sort through the mail like a madman. Geez, just how popular is this guy?! It’s almost as wild as Jack’s mail. At least there’s more interesting stuff for Jack... drawings, letters of encouragement and thanks, even the rare crocheted or sculpted gift.

Schneep freezes when he comes across a particular letter, one with a cutesy pin cupcake logo. His eyes grow solemn as he picks it up and shakily opens it. Jackie cocks his head.

“Something wrong, doctor?” he asks lightly.

Schneep looks up. “Hm? Oh!” He sighs. “It’s from a baking class Sophia and I used to take together. Lisette had insisted I learn how to cook as well, so it wouldn’t always be her making the meals, and she figured it would be good bonding for me and Sophia. Soph loved those classes. We’d learn all sorts of fascinating recipes and bring the results home. They were fun, and very sweet.”

Jackie nods seriously. He knows he should leave it there, but something’s confusing him. “It’s been quite a few months since you stopped going. Why are they sending you stuff now?”

Schneep unfolds the letter. As he reads it, his eyes widen and a smile begins curling at his lips.

Somehow, that only makes more questions. “What…?”

“It’s not the company themself, it’s Chase! He was a friend from the classes! I haven’t spoken to him in forever! He’s such a lovely person, it’d be nice to see him again!” Schneep grabs his phone and hastily types in the number at the bottom of the letter. He squeals and runs off, like a teenager who just got a text from their crush.

The letter lies on the table, open for all to read. Jackie knows better than to pry into other people’s lives, but this letter is wide open, and it’s not like Schneep needs to know, so the superhero leans over and reads.

Hey Henrik,

This is probably weird to get, but I lost your phone number and I don’t know what your address is, so I asked the dudes at the baking class if I could send a letter to you via their services.

It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I thought I’d better check in and see how you’re doing, see how bachelor life is treating you. Stacy and the kids miss seeing you as well. I wanna talk to you again.

My cell is #1273-545-8903.

Hope to see you soon!

Chase Brody

Chase Brody. That sounds like an American to Jackie’s ears. He does seem like a good person, if Schneep’s reaction wasn’t enough. He must have been a friend for Schneep when the doctor went through his divorce.

The name itself sounds familiar, like a local celebrity or something. Jackie makes a mental note to look it up later. He leans back and finishes his cereal just as Schneep comes back, holding his phone out. Marvin finally emerges, his green hair resembling a rat’s nest, and no mask. Jackie takes pride in the fact that Marvin now feels comfortable enough to show his face in front of Schneep and Jackie.

“Well, change of plans, I won’t be able to come home in time for dinner with you guys,” Schneep announces. Jackie nods.

“Wait what? Why?” Marvin slurs, slumping down at the dining room table.

“I’m going to see Chase after my shift today. We agreed to meet in the park,” Schneep explains curtly, and leaves.

“Did I miss something?” Marvin asks, turning to Jackie. Jackie nods down to the letter. Marvin leans over to read, only for the letter to be snatched up by the doctor.

“Who said you could go through my stuff?!” Schneep snapped. He stormed off, letter clutched firmly in his hand. Marvin sneers at Jackie, who only shrugs and winks. The magician rolls his eyes, but he understands. A shrug and a wink means I’ll tell you later.

Schneep throws on his brown coat and grabs his bag. “Have a nice day, boys. If I don’t see you later tonight, sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.” He flies out, coat flapping behind him.

“He’s gotta show me how he rocks an overcoat so well. I’m jealous of the way he holds himself. So professional,” Marvin remarks. He quickly turns to Jackie. “Spill the tea.”

“Schneep’s meeting an old friend from a baking class he used to take with his daughter,” Jackie says. “His name is Chase Brody. The name sounds so familiar to me, and I don’t know why.”

“Look it up on your phone,” Marvin suggests. Jackie does just that.

Immediately, Wikipedia comes to the egos’ rescue. Chase Brody, (born April 11th, 1988) is an American-Irish Youtuber who is best known for his Youtube channel, Bro Average. As of February 2017, his channel has over 20 million views and over 10 million subscribers.

“Oh yeah, the trickshot vlogger!” Jackie says. “I like watching his stuff, he’s a funny dude.”

Marvin nods. “He must have kids as well. He wouldn’t be taking classes if he didn’t.”

Jackie scrolls down to Personal Life. “‘Chase is married to Stacy Matthews, and they have three children as of 2017, two biological twins, and one recently adopted daughter.’” The selfie provided shows a man with fair skin and bright blue eyes standing next to a red-headed lady doing a duckface.

“Hm. Sounds like he’s living the good life,” Marvin says. “A well-paid job, a nice family, a happy life.”

Boy, is he wrong.

At 5 PM exactly, Schneep sits at the bench by the great oak tree, waiting for Chase. He wraps his blue and navy scarf tighter around his neck as a cool breeze whisks by. Despite what the weather people promised, Athlone is nowhere near warm, despite it being spring. He examines the park-goers who walk by, picking up on every accident that could occur.

Parents swinging their child up and down: a broken arm, arms could pull out of their sockets, or the child could fall on their head and get a concussion. Or worse, permanent brain injuries.

Kids climbing trees: Another chance to fall and hit their tiny heads and sustain brain damage, if not that, broken limbs and splinters.

Teenagers skateboarding: more broken bones and limbs, but at least SOME are smart enough to put pads and helmets on. Others have no chance of recovering fully from brain damage or concussions should they fall on their heads-

“Henrik!” Henrik snaps to life and looks around. A man wearing a puffy black jacket, torn jeans and a snapback with a pink skull on it runs over to him. Schneep stands up.

“Chase Brody! Wie geht es dir mein freund?” Schneep cries out in delight, holding his arms out. Chase happily throws himself into them.

“I’m doing as well as I can, at least. It’s so good to see your face,” Chase sighs. He nuzzles Henrik’s hair, taking in the sanitizer and mint smell he’s gotten used to. “I’ve missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Schneep says. “Come, sit down next to me! Tell me how things have been. How are Stacy and your kids? Has Chloe adjusted to the new timezone yet?” Chloe is Chase’s recently adopted daughter from China. Schneep’s last visit with the Brody’s involved meeting her.

Chase’s smile fades and he sits down next to Schneep. “Um…”

Schneep’s stomach sinks. “That’s never good. What happened? Who died?!”

“Calm down, Henrik!” Chase exclaims. “No one died! Everyone’s fine. Chloe’s adjusted quite nicely.”

“Then why do you look so sad?!” Schneep cries.

Chase fidgets with his jacket zipper, mumbling incomprehensibly. Henrik leans closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

“StacyandIaregettingadivorce,” Chase whispers. Schneep’s stomach flips and sinks.

“What?”

“Stacy and I are getting divorced,” Chase repeats, louder now. “She said she still loves me, but not quite in a… romantic way, I guess. She wants us to just be friends.”

“Well, at least she still wants to be on friendly terms, I guess!” Schneep says. “Still, I can’t believe it… you two were such a sweet couple… so in love…”

“There’s another reason why she wants a divorce,” Chase admits. Schneep’s eyes turn wide as saucers.

“She’s seeing someone. An old friend from high school. I’ve seen her texts,” Chase says. He scrunches up the end of his shirt, nose wrinkling. Schneep hears him sniff.

“I don’t know how long it’s gone on… and I know she didn’t mean to… but still…” Chase finally looks up, eyes tearing. “How could she do that? I would have been okay with it! Maybe. I don’t know!” Chase buries his face in his hands.

Schneep pats Chase’s shoulder gently. He can’t believe Stacy cheated! She and Chase were such a romantic couple! They seemed so happy! Why would Stacy throw that all away for some whore? “What a bitch…”

Chase suddenly whacks Schneep’s hand off, eyes fierce. “Don’t call her that! It’s not like that! At least she still wants me in her life! She’s not like Lisette!” An awkward silence fills the air.

Chase gasps. “Henrik, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh!” Schneep cries. “It’s fine! It’s no big deal!” Yeah, that was a low blow, but he would rather Chase doesn’t end up like him: cranky, alienating, friendless, alone. He needs a friend more than ever.

“No it’s not, I just sunk really low! You must be furious-”

“I’m not, I promise!” He’s not, surprisingly. Is this growth?! What the fuck?!

“I need to control myself better. I’m a grownup, for fuck’s sake, I should know better…” Chase moans, burrowing his head in his hands again.

“Chase!” Schneep exclaims. “You mustn’t beat yourself up like that! You’re one of my very best friends, which isn’t saying much because I don’t have any, but still! You have to be one of the nicest people I know! You’re anything but a dick!”

“I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m not, I swear !” Schneep says.

“I’m sorry, Henrik, I really am,” Chase says.

“I forgive you,” Schneep says, and means it. “I’m serious.”

“I should go,” Chase decides, standing. Schneep gets up as well.

“What? No! I’m not mad!” he protests.

“It’s my turn to pick the kids up,” Chase snaps. “I’ll see you around, Henrik. Sorry I can’t stay long.” He briskly runs off.

Schneeplestein yells and kicks the bench. “FUCK! FUCK! AAAHHH!!!”

Other park visitors turn in confusion, watching the strange man kick the bench and scream.

Schneep freezes when he notices everyone staring at him. He storms back to his car, slams the door shut and continues his screaming.

Once Schneep has finished “releasing his anger” (Jackie’s words, not his) he “reflects on the situation” (also Jackie’s words). What could he do to make Chase feel better?

He stays in the car for an hour, letting the world pass by as he thinks. By the time the sun has set, he has an idea.

Jackie and Marvin glare at each other from across the hall. Sirius the cat has hidden, choosing not to get involved. The little pegs in the cribbage board are neck-in-neck, both pegs exactly 4 steps away from the end hole. The egos stare at their cards.

“Four,” Jackie announces, putting the card down.

“Fourteen,” Marvin says.

The door flies open and Schneep rushes in, hair windswept and out of breath. “Where’s Jack?!” he demands.

“Out in his universe,” Jackie responds. “Fifteen for two!” He puts down an ace.

“Sixteen for two!” Marvin slams the ace down, looking triumphant. Jackie flips him off.

“When will he visit?!” Schneep questions.

“When he wishes,” Jackie responds. “Twenty-five!”

“How can I contact him?!”

“Why are you so interested?!” Marvin asks. “Thirty-one, bitch!” He flips Jackie off.

“I have a request for him!” Schneep responds curtly.

“What kind?” Jackie asks.

“It’s for a friend,” Schneep brushes him off, heading to his lab.

“Chase Brody?” Marvin guesses. Jackie kicks him.

Schneep turns around. “What did you say?”

Marvin gulps. “You left your letter on the table for me to read. I was fast enough to catch the gist before you snatched it up. So how is Chase Brody?”

Schneep growls softly and walks back to the table. Marvin sits up with his head held high, bracing himself for the punishment. No matter what Schneep does, slugging, kicking, ruining his hair, the magician can take it. He’s been through worse.

To Marvin and Jackie’s surprise, Schneep pulls up a chair and sits down. The doctor takes a deep breath. “Chase Brody is divorcing his wife. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Jackie and Marvin nod in understanding. “That’s sad to hear,” Jackie remarks, solemnly.

“But how’s talking to Jack going to help?” Marvin queries.

“I want him to make a video for Chase,” Schneep says. “If this so-called community exists, I want to see them show their love for Chase! It’s the least he deserves!”

Marvin and Jackie catch each other’s gaze. Schneep glares at Jackie expectantly.

“Well? You’ve lived with Jack the longest. How do you contact him?!” Schneep demands.

“I have his number in case of emergencies, but I’ve never had a reason to call him! I don’t even know if he’s available,” Jackie explains.

“He has to be. What else does a man who plays video games for a living do?!” Schneep snaps, incredulous. “It’s not like he has to be places or anything!” He looms over Jackie, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Jackie nearly topples out of his chair.

“I guess I could give it a shot,” the superhero mumbles.

Schneep squeals in delight and wraps his arms tightly around Jackie in what Jackie assumes to be a hug. The superhero pats the doctor’s arms, taken aback by his strength.

After a few sickeningly sweet seconds, Marvin pipes up, “Uh, doc? I think Jackie needs to be able to breathe in order to call Jack.”

Sheepishly, Schneeplestein lets Jackie go. The superhero gulps in big gasps of air, before grabbing his phone and dialing Jack’s number.

A day later, Jack McLoughlin sits at the egos’ dining room table, chomping away on mashed potatoes and a juicy steak.

“My goodness, you never told me what a good chef you were, Schneep!” he sighs in ecstasy.

Schneep bows his head, face glowing red. Jackie raises an eyebrow. Schneep almost NEVER blushes when given a compliment. It’s strange to see the doctor act so shy and humble around someone, especially Jack. It feels like only yesterday Schneep was bombarding Jack with questions about where he came from and how the alternate universe worked. Since that day, Jack has quickly risen to become one of Schneep’s favourite people on the planet. Not that Jackie is jealous or anything…

“Just a little recipe I learned for my wife…” Schneep mutters, playing with the end of his lab coat. Across the table, Marvin snickers lightly, watching the doctor fumble for words. Finally, some entertainment!

“So, what was the call for?” Jack asks. “Just wanted to say hi?” His expression darkens. “Is it Anti? What did he do?!”

“It’s not Anti. We haven’t heard from him for a while!” Jackie says. Jack sighs in relief.

“I mean, I know I made that video for PAX and all but I just wanted to make sure,” Jack says.

“You made an Anti video for PAX?!” Marvin cries. “Why?”

“Because the fans would enjoy it! Also because I was running out of ideas for what to do for an opening,” Jack admits. “It just seemed like the right amount of fun and originality without being too over the top!”

“When is Anti not over the top?” Jackie scoffs. That earns a laugh from the others.

“Actually, it’s Schneep who has a question for you,” Marvin says.

Jack turns to Schneeplestein. Schneep’s smile disappears. He looks around the table, watching everyone’s gaze. He grins nervously at Jack.

“Could I ask you in private? This stuff… it is… personal.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” Jack says, standing up. Schneep follows after him.

In the upstairs hallway, Schneep spills everything. He explains who Chase is, what’s going on in his life, and how he believes making Chase an ego could help his situation.

“Make another ego? Oh god, I’m having enough trouble managing you all right now,” Jack admits.

“All you have to do is make one video. The fans can do the rest,” Schneep presses.

“How?”

“By showing their love for Chase! He’s a funny and sweet guy! Your fans would love him!”

“How will the community’s love help a man struggling with a divorce?” Jack questions.

“Their love will lift his spirits and he will feel more confident and happy! You said you noticed a difference in us after the community made content of us! If that is really true, then I want to see them show their love for Chase. It’s the least he deserves!”

Jack is silent, contemplating the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs and says, “Can you show me what he usually does?”

Schneep types something into his phone. He logs onto Youtube and types a channel name into the search bar. Bro Average.

“Bro Average? Is that a parody of Dude Perfect?” Jack asks, chuckling.

“Well, it’s because there’s only one person performing every stunt, and because it’s less... professional than the other channel,” Schneep explains. “For example-”

The video shows Chase at a park, holding a Nerf gun and wearing a goofy grin. “Sup, guys! I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He shoots a nerf dart off-screen, only for it to crash into something, invoking a cat screech. Chase pretends to be startled.

It flashes forward to Chase in a tree. “This one’s called, ‘Multitasking’!” He hangs off a branch while trying to knock over six cups stacked up on each other with darts. Jack can’t stop snickering at Chase’s antics, as he wobbles and threatens to lose his balance. Chase yelps and squeals, and a few times, swearing can be heard, though it’s censored by loud beeps. Finally, Chase hits his target, just as the branch snaps. Chase whoops with glee as he crashes onto the ground, the branch smacking into his head. His cameraman runs over to him, worried, but Chase is rolling on the ground in laughter as tears run down his face.

“He is not nearly as good as the professionals, but his humour and authenticness bring in the fans,” Schneep says, smiling.

“He sounds like a blast!” Jack takes the phone and begins to skim through Chase’s videos. “I bet I could make something work! I’ll borrow an office space, bring a couple friends and film a few shots! Can’t be that hard!”

“So you will do it?!” Schneep cries.

“Absolutely! Give me a couple days and it will be ready!”

Schneep cheers and engulfs Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs and pats his friend’s back. It’s nice to see the doctor open up at last to his new roommates and creator, and so quickly, as well. Jack decides Schneep can be rewarded for his good nature by granting his wish and helping out a new friend.

A few weeks pass. Schneeplestein schedules more visits with Chase. The two fathers laugh and chat, learning more about each other and discussing whatever they please without the worry of kids hearing. Schneep feels his spirits lift whenever he sees Chase’s snapback and hears his cheerful voice.

In the night, a familiar sensation returns to the egos’ dreams. Sounds of a Nerf gun, kids laughing and on the rare occasion, a man crying fills the egos’ heads as they sleep. Schneep feels his heart break when he hears Chase’s cries. He hopes this video will help Chase. It has to.

April 11th, 2017. The egos are gathered around the dining room table, Jack’s Youtube account open on his laptop.

Jack idly sits at the centre, waiting for Schneep to arrive with Chase. Marvin and Jackie play another round of cribbage, and this time Jackie seems to be way ahead on the board, much to the magician’s dismay.

“I’m going to be skunked! I hate this game so fucking much!” Marvin gripes, as he receives two points for his math efforts.

Jackie snickers as he counts his cards. “This takes both luck and skill. You’re a fast learner, Marv. I’m sure you’ll pull through soon.”

“Not soon enough,” grumbles Marvin as Jackie moves his peg 16 points.

The door opens and Schneep walks in with Chase Brody right behind him. Compared to the laughing man with the warm aura in Google Images, this Chase looks cold and kind of grumpy.

“Chase, this is Jack McLoughlin, our ‘creator’ and a wonderful man,” Schneep introduces. Jack awkwardly holds his hand out for a shake. Even though he’s seen versions of himself several times this past year, it’s still rather unnerving to be given death stares by himself but with yellow hair, snapback and a fair share of freckles.

“Jack, this is Chase Brody, your newest ego and the face of Bro Average!” Schneep continues. Chase raises an eyebrow.

“Ego? Like alter ego?” Chase turns to the others, and realizes that they share the same hair and face. “Oh... my... dog. Am I a fictional character?! Is this a character intervention with the narrator?! Whatever happened, I promise, I didn’t do it! Sally encouraged me to eat the worm!” Chase kneels before Jack, cowering and whimpering.

Jack chuckles nervously. “Relax, Chase! Technically, you are a fictional character-” Chase shrieks in alarm.

“But only in another universe. You’re very much a real person in this one,” Schneep concludes, helping Chase up by the arm. Chase shakes the doctor off and Schneep tries his best to hide his hurt.

“To put it simply, some of the videos on my channel don’t exist in this universe. This is because they’re about you… egos,” Jack recites. “You’re the most recent ego, however, your video and beginnings are a bit different because I already had some course material to go off of.”

Jack clicks play on the video. Chase sits down and gasps as Jack-as-Chase flies around the office, performing trickshots and screaming like a toddler who drank too much apple juice. Is… is this him?! The accuracy! Holy shit! They even got his bloopers right! Creepy!!! Is he being stalked?!

Schneep watches from afar, fidgeting with his lab coat. Chase hasn’t moved once since the video started. He doesn’t look angry… but at the same time, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his Power Hour. Truth be told, it’s not like the Doctor particularly likes his Power Hour either. Jack didn’t have to go and mention his cheating wife… or the fact that Peter did die at one point… Nonetheless, Chase is just sitting there, with wide eyes.

Jack, on the other hand, is already regretting what he did. Perhaps he emphasized too much on the “Not-As-Professional-Or-Successful” part. Maybe he made Chase too goofy or not as three-dimensional as he could have. The Youtuber catches a glimpse of the screen. Oh no. It’s the part with-

“Stacy, please, I know, I’m trying to get all the shots, look, just please don’t take the kids!” Jack-as-Chase pleads. Schneep and Jack-in-the-flesh turn white as a ghost. Chase frowns.

“This one’s called, ‘I’m Staying At My Sister’s This Weekend’!” Jack-as-Chase announces. It flashes back to him on the phone. “Well, I don’t care what your sister says! Just please! At least let me see them on the weekend still!”

Jack scratched his neck nervously and teethed on his knuckles, face beet red. Chase looks horrified. Schneep looks just as worried. Marvin and Jackie awkwardly stand up to leave.

Chase pauses the video just as Jack-as-Chase sobs. He takes a deep breath and turns to face his “creator”. “So… are you the reason my wife and I are getting a divorce?”

Jack gapes, taken aback by Chase’s accusation. He doesn’t want to throw Schneep under the bus, but at the same time, Chase wasn’t exactly “created” like the others-

“Not exactly!” Schneep interferes. “It… it was my idea. I thought if I got Jack to make a tribute video in honour of you, it would help you!”

“Help me?!” Chase laughs, a harsh and cold sound compared to his whoops and chuckles in his videos. “How?! By running my wife’s name through the dirt?!” Jack flinches.

“Fair enough,” Schneep says with a groan. “I should have been more specific when I said divorce and kids.”

“You told-?!”

“I thought if you knew you had a big name on your side you’d feel better! It was supposed to be a little treat!” Schneep counters.

“Oh, what am I, a little pity party to you?” Chase snaps. “My divorce was private information, Schneep. Why else did you think I wanted to talk to you alone?! Now the whole world knows and Stacy’s going to be treated horribly because of you shits-”

“Not the whole world!” Schneep exclaims. “Just… all… of Jack’s world.”

“Shut up,” Chase hisses. “I don’t care that there’s more than one universe. So be it. What I care about is the fact that you betrayed my trust and now people are going to treat Stacy like she was a freaking bitch. This may come as a surprise to both you and Jack, but not all women are cheating whores like Lisette, asshole!”

SMACK. Chase cries out. The egos and Jack huddle together. Schneep’s breathing slows as he registers the sting in his hand and Chase rubbing his red cheek.

Schneep takes a deep breath, and in chilling, low, icy words, he snarls, “Don’t ever say her name again.”

Chase recovers from the slap and storms over to the door. “Whatever. You know what?! Stay away from me and whatever’s left of my family. I don’t care if I’m a part of your ‘creator’s’ story or whatever, I JUST WANT YOU OUT OF MY LIFE.” Chase grabs his coat and slams the door shut with a loud BANG. Schneep remains at the dining room, breathing unsteadily, vision somewhat blurry.

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Jackie whispers, reaching a hand out.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Schneep runs upstairs to his room and slams the door. Muffled sobs soon echo down the hallway.

Jack’s heart breaks in two. He really thought this video was a good idea. Somehow, all it brought was pain. He sighs defeatedly and slumps down at the table. Marvin closes the laptop.

“Shit… that was awful…”

“And it was supposed to be Chase’s birthday present!” Jack moans. “Ahhhhh, I feel like an asshole… I shouldn’t have been so mean…”

“It’s not your fault…” Jackie soothes. “You made an assumption and played it with satire. Schneep shares some of the blame as well. He should have kept that part quiet.”

“And I should have kept that out of the video…” Jack sighs. “Now Chase feels even worse about the divorce and he wants nothing to do with us…”

Jackie and Marvin sit down beside Jack and rub his back. Jack sighs again and rests his head on the table.

Upstairs, Schneep screams into his pillow, tears finally flowing. He hates himself and Chase and everything that’s happened. That’s what he gets for helping a friend. Ungrateful bastard-

No. Schneep should have known better! That was private information, he had no right poking his nose in and telling everyone. Well, it was just one person, but still! Now Chase never wants to speak to him again and he’s lost the only friend he’s had in a while and everything sucks and he just wants to curl up and die. Schneep pulls his hair and screams again. He can’t sleep, but at the same time, he can’t do anything else. So he remains in bed, crying and thinking. Eventually, long into the night, he falls asleep, cheeks wet and eyes sore.

Schneep wakes up feeling like absolute shit. His cheeks are somewhat sticky and damp. He must have been crying in his sleep. His stomach feels awful. But it’s a work day, so he gets out of bed.

Schneep stumbles into his ensuite bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders when he sees his reflection. Grey skin, messy hair, red eyes. He doesn’t smell so good either. Sighing sadly, Schneep throws off his clothes and turns on the shower faucet.

When he hops out of the shower, he puts on his scrubs and grabs his spare labcoat. He trudges downstairs, where Marvin is waiting with fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes on the table.

“Morning, doc,” Marvin greets cheerfully. His smile fades when he sees Schneep’s ashen face. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Schneep replies hoarsely.

“I made you some coffee,” Marvin continues. “I know you like it.”

Schneep grunts softly and pours himself a large cup. As he drinks he heads to the hook of keys by the front door, only to find-

“Where are my keys?” Schneep asks, staring at the space where his car keys used to hang.

“I saw Sirius knock them off earlier,” Marvin replies, flipping through the nearest magazine. “I tried to catch her, but she’s so fast.”

“Where is she right now?” Schneep inquires, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Beats me. I can’t control her,” Marvin says calmly.

Schneep growls and pounds on the table. Marvin jumps slightly, but quickly recovers and goes back to his reading.

“This isn’t funny, Marvin. I need to get to work!” Schneep snaps. “I’m already falling behind schedule.”

Marvin snorts, looking up from the magazine. “You think you’re fit to go to work? Your face is bright pink, you’ve got large shadows under your eyes and I heard you crying for who knows how many hours last night.”

“I have allergies! They were just acting up!” Schneep snaps.

“Oh, really? Allergies? That’s rich coming from the man who claims to have ‘the strongest immune system in the world’!” Marvin scoffs.

“Even the strongest immune systems have off days, okay?!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Henrik, are you even hearing yourself?!”

Schneep fights back more tears. “Marvin, please, tell me where the keys are! I can’t be late for work!”

“And you won’t be! I called the hospital and asked them to give you a day off!” Marvin says.

Schneep almost drops his mug. “You… you did what?!”

“I told them it was a family emergency,” Marvin admits. “And that we didn’t know how long it would be. They understood, told me to tell you to take as many days off as you need.”

“Which is none,” Schneep scowls. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Henrik, you said you didn’t want Chase to go through his divorce alone and friendless, like you. You’re going through a tough time right now. The last thing you need is to be alone.”

Schneep gapes at the magician, tears threatening to fall. Marvin stares back, heart thumping loudly. He prays he didn’t say the wrong thing. He hopes this works.

Maybe it’s because he didn't get enough sleep, or maybe it’s because he’s never had anyone be so concerned for his well-being that they screwed up his schedule, but Henrik finally lets his anguish go, and collapses, bawling like a little baby. Marvin gets down from his seat and wraps his arms around the doctor, soothing him and singing softly.

Jackie finally emerges from the bathroom, and joins the cuddle pile in the kitchen. As Henrik finally slumps completely into Marvin’s arms, he and the superhero high-five and move the sleeping doctor into the living room for a day of Netflix and cuddles.

Five days pass. Henrik sits at his desk, tapping his pen. In front of him is the start of a letter, with only the words “Dear Chase,” written on it. He needs to apologize to Chase, but just doing it by text seems insensitive. So written letter it is! Now… where to start…

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and there’s no way to excuse my behaviour. I really believed I was doing the right thing by telling Jack, but I should have known better than to air dirty laundry.

The doctor shakes his head and crumples up the page. He can do better than that. Now to start over-

His phone begins playing the familiar sound of a monitor beeping. He really needs to change his ringtone. It’s too painful to hear after all the dead patients that came with it.

Henrik freezes when he notices the name. Chase. Why is he calling? Heart thumping and hands shaking, Henrik picks up the phone.

“Hello? Chase?”

“H-hi, d-doc…” Chase answers in a raspy whisper. The sound of sniffling is not lost on Henrik.

“Chase? Are you okay?”

“Not really…” Another sniffle. “But I will be… soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said… It was wrong of me to bring up your own divorce… I-I shouldn’t have been so harsh…”

“No, Chase, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up your divorce in the first place! I thought I was doing good by telling Jack, but he clearly misinterpreted it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

“It’s alright… you were just trying to make me feel bet-better… I just overreacted… I overreact to eve-everything… I’m such a bay-baby.” Chase sounds like he’s holding back tears.

“No you’re not. You had every right to be mad… I’m sorry for slapping you. How’s your cheek?”

Schneep hears Chase chuckle softly. “It’s fine… It doesn’t hurt as much as other injuries…” The laugh turns into a sob.

“Other injuries?! What do you mean?!” Henrik demands. “Chase, you’re worrying me!”

“I’m sorry… I can’t seem to do anything right… All I do is upset people…” Chase is outright crying now.

“Chase, please tell me where you are,” Henrik pleads, getting up. “I need to make sure you’re okay!”

“No… I don’t think you’ll want to see this…” Chase mumbles. He takes a deep but shuddery breath. “I have to go. Goodbye, Henrik.”

“Chase?! CHASE?!” Henrik screams. The phone line goes dead. Henrik yelps and quickly rushes into his contacts. He finds Stacy’s name and calls her.

She answers on the first ring. “Henrik? It’s been so long! How are you?”

“Where is Chase right now?”

“What?”

“Where is he living?”

“What’s going on? What did he say to you? Is he okay?”

“Call 999. I don’t believe so.”

Henrik hangs up and dashes out of his office, up the stairs and to the front door, where he grabs his keys and coat. Marvin and Jackie sit at the kitchen island, both on their phones.

“Henrik? What’s going on?”

“I have to go to the hospital. I’ll be back,” Henrik answers curtly. He throws on his coat and leaves.

Henrik runs into the hospital and quickly signs himself in. A nurse comes by and squeaks in surprise when she sees him.

“Dr. Schneeplestein? What are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”

“Time is broken, Cass,” Dr. Schneeplestein replies. He dashes off to the emergency room. Cass quickens her pace, trying her best to catch up to him.

“Have there been any emergencies yet?” Schneep demands.

“I think an ambulance is arriving soon-” Cass begins.

“Who’s the patient?” Schneep asks.

“A man attempted suicide-” Cass starts.

“I’ll treat him,” Schneep announces.

The doors open and medics rush in, driving a man on a gurney. Schneep pales when he sees red. The good doctor swallows his fear and tears. Now is not the time to be a baby. He’s not called the good doctor for nothing. Time to save Chase’s life.

Hours later, five nurses come in to find Dr. Schneeplestein exhaustedly sobbing against the wall, shoulders convulsing as he cries into his hands. On the gurney lies a man with yellow hair poking out of a large bandage wrapped around his head. The monitor beeps rhythmically, and the man’s chest rises and falls slowly. So why is the doctor crying?

Three nurses wheel Chase out while the other two bend down next to Schneep. One nurse, Kate, tentatively places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in shock.

“Schneeplestein? Are you alright?” Kate asks.

Schneep smiles shakily. “He’ll live…” He shivers and whimpers. “Oh god… so much could have happened… So much could have gone wrong… I thought I lost him a few times...” the doctor breaks off with another sob.

“Why don’t you head home? Today is your day off,” Kate suggests.

“In a little while… I need to speak to the patient first…” Schneep replies in a raspy voice. Kate nods. She and the other nurse, Matt, help the doctor up. His legs wobble and almost give out. Schneep takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way out of the operating room and into his office.

An hour later, Henrik reappears, wearing his comfy labcoat and drinking some tea, a rarity considering how much the doctor prefers coffee. But he needs to relax, and so Matt whipped up a nice cup of tea.

Henrik pulls up a chair and sets his cup down. He looks down at the sleeping man, face as white as the bandage wrapped around his head. Chase has never looked more fragile and vulnerable. His cheeks are sunken and there are large bags under his eyes.

Henrik rubs his face. Truthfully, he’s just as tired. He looks up at the clock. 1:11 am. God, he was in the operating room for quite a while. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be as stressed as he was today. He leans back and closes his eyes. Maybe he can get a quick nap before-

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” He opens his eyes and looks up. His stomach flips when he notices a woman with red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders. Her soft brown eyes are full of compassion and worry. Stacy Brody. Or Stacy Matthews, to be more precise.

“Stacy…” Henrik mumbles. “What… I mean, I’m sorry. I understand this must be a lot for you.”

“I can’t believe it… I mean, I knew about his depression, I just didn’t think it would get this bad,” Stacy says, voice soft and sad.

Henrik nods. “Yes. One can’t help but wonder what the breaking point was.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Stacy whispers hoarsely, staring down at her ex-husband’s skinny frame. “I did cheat on him. I told him I wanted a divorce after he found out… I wonder what would have happened if I told him straight up about Delilah… I wonder how he would have reacted…”

Henrik is speechless. He can’t really say it isn’t her fault, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she could straight up tell him. There really was no way of telling how he would have reacted. Henrik groans and rubs his eyes again. He can’t think straight.

His mind flickers back to the video, and his stomach sinks. Did that video… influence his decision? Should he tell her about it? Would she be mad? He takes a deep breath.

“I mentioned your divorce to another friend,” he finally says. “Said friend made a video that I think mocked Chase more than flattered him. I thought it would help… but it didn’t. Only made him even more upset.”

“A video? Was this the video that ‘Jack’ made?” Stacy asks. Henrik opens his eyes, horrified. How long has she known?! Oh god, she must despise him! Henrik whirls around to face her, face riddled with guilt.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d take it in that direction- It was a shitty idea, I was so invasive and it was absolutely despicable of me and-”

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake!” Stacy responds calmly. “Chase told me about it. He felt awful and he was so pissed with you guys. I will admit I was a bit peeved at first, but Chase said he yelled at you and broke off his friendship with you, so I figured it was punishment enough.”

“He also brought up my wife,” Henrik says. “So I punched him.”

Stacy nods. “Ah, that’s where the bruise came from.”

Henrik cringes. Damn, did he actually hit Chase that hard? He really is a dick. He sighs and stands up. “You are more than welcome to punch me. I deserve it. I never should have brought up the divorce. It was hateful of me, really.”

Stacy shakes her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t! You saved Chase from the brink of death. It’d be so insensitive of me!”

“I insist.” Henrik holds his head up. Stacy reluctantly stands up, and raises an open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks.

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” Henrik says.

Stacy takes a deep breath… and punches him. Henrik falls back into the chair from the force. Stacy cringes.

“You… have a very strong punch,” Henrik remarks, holding his throbbing cheek. He holds a finger up when he sees her mouth move. “Don’t apologize. You were right to do so.”

“I took karate as a kid,” Stacy boasts. “I won a black belt at age five.”

“Good for you! To be honest, it wasn’t nearly as hard as my wife’s,” Henrik admits.

“Well, at least I got my ‘revenge’- wait, what?!” Stacy does a double take. “Lisette used to punch you?!”

“She only did it once,” Henrik quickly adds. “After I called her a whore.”

“Oh. That explains a lot,” Stacy deadpans.

“I deserved that as well,” Henrik says. “I just wish she hadn’t moved so far away… I wonder how the girls are doing...”

“Have your children contacted you?” Stacy lightly presses.

“I’ve tried to contact them,” Henrik says. “I don’t think Lisette lets them write or call me.”

“Then Lisette really is an ass,” Stacy explodes. “What if they do want to talk to you? She can’t hide them from you just because she doesn’t like you.”

“That doesn’t seem to stop her. I keep my phone nearby in case Sophia calls when her mother isn’t around.” Henrik pats his pocket. “Or maybe Rick will let her. He’s quite nice and he’s good with kids, which is why I was quite surprised when he turned out to be-”

“A homewrecker?” Stacy suggests. Henrik glares at her, scandalized, but she can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, snickering.

“I was gonna say an ass, but that’s better,” he says. Stacy bursts out laughing, but it quickly fades when she notices Chase. She clears her throat.

“I’m going to take the kids away for a while,” she reveals. “At least until he’s emotionally stable to look after the kids.”

“You know Chase would never let his depression get in the way of being a good father,” Henrik protests.

“I know. I just feel he needs a break from it all,” Stacy says. “Mostly family life, me and Delilah in particular. Maybe she and I could go to my cottage in Scotland. We can stay there until he feels ready to share custody once more. He can’t be alone, though. We know what will happen if he does. He can’t go back home either. We still need to wash out the blood and dispose of any guns he might have. Of course I mean the real guns, but he might not want his Nerf toys either. He needs to be with someone , and that can’t be me. I just don’t know anyone he could stay with who lives in Athlone. We only just moved here.”

Henrik lights up. Holy shit. It’s like destiny! This is the perfect opportunity! “He can move in with us. He’s already an ego. He’d love it there. Sure it’s a bit chaotic, but I think he’d love it!”

Stacy raises an eyebrow. “What sort of chaotic?” she questions.

“The local superhero likes to crash there, we have a magician who INSISTS on using us for test subjects for his latest tricks, and me, the ‘feral doctor’,” Henrik lists off. “Come to think of it, I’m actually the voice of reason.”

Stacy tries her best to hide a shudder. “I feel a little worried about his safety. And no offense, but it’s a bit concerning that you’re the voice of reason in that house.”

Henrik scoffs in mock insult and shoves her gently. “Oh screw you! To be honest, Jackie is actually the smart one. I’m the one who pays the taxes and keeps a roof over their head. They’re the ones who overstayed their visit.”

Stacy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She looks more relaxed than when she walked in. She stands up.

“I think it’s time I left. Good luck, Chase. I wish you all the best with your recovery.” Stacy leans over and gently kisses Chase’s cheek before turning to Henrik and holding her hand out. Henrik returns it and gives it a small squeeze, only to be pulled in for a hug. He gasps in surprise.

“Thank you Henrik,” she whispers. Henrik nods and returns the hug, holding her tightly until she signals to let go. Stacy picks up her bag and leaves.

Henrik sits back down and takes out his cellphone to call the egos. Jackie picks up after the first ring.

“Henrik? Are you okay?”

“I want you to clean the house and make some hot chocolate. We’ve got a new roommate coming to stay with us!” Henrik announces.

“Is it Chase? Is that who we’re taking in?” Jackie asks.

“Yes. I want everything to be perfect, so go! Get cleaning!” the doctor commands.

“Need us to pick you up?” Marvin suggests.

“I can drive just fine! See you soon!” Henrik hangs up just as Chase begins to stir. The doctor watches him apprehensively. He hasn’t seen Chase since the argument. How will he react?

Chase groggily opens his eyes. He can see a bright light shining down on him and closes his eyes. “Where… where am I?”

He slowly attempts to sit up. A soft pair of hands gently help him sit up and rub his back.

Chase blinks, trying to clear his vision. The blurry blue shape slowly comes into view… Henrik! The good doctor sits beside him with an anxious expression on his face.

Chase wracks his memory to try to remember what had happened. He can feel a heavy fabric wrapped around his head. He lifts a hand to better investigate… oh.

Henrik’s heart breaks when he sees Chase drop his hand, expression forlorn. Here we go, he thinks.

“Chase?” Chase looks up. “Before you say anything, know that you have every right to be mad at me and Jack. What we did was despicable and absolutely awful. You don’t have to forgive us, and I completely understand if you never do. But you can’t be alone right now. You’re going through a really tough time, and the last thing you need to be is alone. I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but we have an extra room at home that would be a perfect spot for you to stay while you recover. I know you might not want to talk to me, but Jackie and Marvin are living with me, and they will ensure your time there will be as comfortable as possible. It’s fine if you don’t want to go, but just know that we will always be there when you need a place to stay.”

Chase is silent, simply gazing at Henrik with unshed tears. Finally, he throws his arms around Henrik’s neck. Henrik startles, but returns the hug.

“Is that a yes?” Henrik mumbles. Chase nods. Henrik sighs in relief and squeezes Chase tighter. Now all he has to do is hope Jackie and Marvin have the house ready by the time he returns.

Henrik parks the car in the driveway and turns to Chase. The vlogger fidgets with his t-shirt. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Just warning you now, while Jackie and Marvin have good hearts and intentions, they can be little shits and there’s a good chance the house will still be a mess when we get back in. Good luck.”

Chase whimpers in fear. Henrik nods solemnly. “My thoughts exactly.”

The fathers unload the car and walk up to the front steps. Henrik takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“FIFTEEN FUCKING POINTS! I WIN AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!” Jackie screeches. Marvin roars in anger and tosses a pillow at Jackie, who backhands it. The pillow soars across the house and slams into Henrik, who grunts in alarm and falls backward. Chase shrieks in alarm, gaping at his fallen friend.

Marvin and Jackie turn around, bright blue eyes glaring into Chase. Marvin’s eye twitches sporadically and Jackie smiles like a madman. Chase nervously waves. Marvin clears his throat and forces a sleep-deprived smile.

“Howdy, Chase!”

#attempted suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw #blood mention tw #extreme distress tw #apparently i can write #jacksepticeye #dr. schneeplestein #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #writersofjack #writers of jack

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squidproquoclarice · 4 years

Text

Yeehawgust Day 29: Big Iron

December 1877: Blackfish, Montana

It was a small enough cabin for the winter, and smaller still with a fourteen-year-old boy full of energy and also not quite used to a life that didn’t include roaming every day like a restless alley cat. But that meant the stove warmed it considerably, despite the frigid weather outside. Hosea and Arthur kept the paths to the barn, the woodpile, and the outhouse shoveled out.

Susan heard behind her as the door crashed open, and the gust of freezing air almost stole her breath. “You’re a bull in a china shop, son,” Dutch said with a chuckle, “so God help us when you’re full grown.”

“Huh?”

“Just be a bit gentler on the door, Arthur,” Hosea advised, not even looking as he turned to the next page in his book.

“It sticks!” Arthur protested. “Not my fault it’s a piece of shit.”

“No, it’s properly sealed for winter to keep the cold out,” Susan corrected him. Winters in Long Prairie, Nebraska, fifty miles from anywhere, had taught her the value of a well-fitted door in winter, that adding a bit of rubber or the like along the door frame in those sudden gaps where the door shrank in the cold could make a big difference. Bitter childhood in Long Prairie taught her a lot, including the things she didn’t want in life. Chilblains in winter. Insect bites in summer. Clothes worn thin and grey and patched to oblivion. An empty stomach. A bed shared with five brothers and sisters. The girls being expected to keep house and care for the babies while their brothers went to school, so she hadn’t learned to read until twenty-three. A sod house that was always too dark and too cold or too hot, scrabbling for survival farming a tired patch of dirt. No color, no hope. She’d had to bury any dreams at all and keep them like a shameful secret so they didn’t smother too. She was embarrassed now by the naive girl she’d been, running away with a traveling peddler at sixteen just to get anywhere. But she had, hadn’t she?

Arthur came up beside the stove and dumped the armload of wood with the bristling irritation of a wet cat. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to get in here without shoving it when I got my hands full with this firewood you always got me chopping and carrying?” he demanded.

“You could knock if you can reach, Arthur. Or call in for help, ask someone to open the door for you. It’s being polite,” Bessie told him, voice mild.

Arthur looked at Bessie, and Susan could see the shy way he ducked his head, acknowledging her words. Half-wild and angry as he was, it was like taming a baby bear cub sometimes, but Bessie always got through to him. Susan suspected if Bessie asked him to jump, the boy would eagerly ask how high. But then, Bessie Matthews was made to be a mother, and now she was showing it with this street brat Dutch and Hosea had brought back to the hotel six weeks ago.

“Sorry. I dunno much about being polite,” he mumbled, standing at the stove, holding his hands there to warm them, avoiding looking at them.

She hadn’t known either, living in her exhausting, cramped little Nebraska world. There had been so many things she’d had to learn, and some she was still learning, even at twenty-six. Dutch was an excellent teacher, though. Elegance and class came effortlessly to him, raised as he was in Philadelphia. Something in her ached for Arthur and his sudden embarrassment. “It’s all right. No chance to learn yet, that’s all.”

Apparently emboldened by that room to admit ignorance, that curiosity she’d seen in him, the hunger to learn, flared to life. He reached out and prodded the iron, where it sat on the shelf. “I wondered what’s this thing for, anyway?” He eyed it with a shrewd intensity. “Got that handle, and that’s a nice big piece of iron.” He reached out, took hold of it, and hefted it, judging its weight with a casual air. “Too heavy to be a knuckle duster, but looks like you could bash a fella’s head with it, just about.”

My God, kid, the life you’ve lived where you think it’s got to be a weapon, she thought with mingled alarm and pity. She heard a strangled chuckle from Dutch, and shot him a look. “It’s an iron, Arthur,” Bessie said finally. “You heat it on the stove, and press clothes with it. It gets the wrinkles out.”

“Especially those nice white shirts Hosea and Dutch love to wear,” she agreed dryly. Thankfully they weren’t keeping that up in this cabin. She’d want to murder someone if she had to wash, starch, and iron pristine white dress shirts all winter long. Though seeing Dutch in old pants and a flannel shirt seemed wrong, somehow. It didn’t quite suit him.

“Clothes make the man, Susan m’dear,” Dutch said with a flippant chuckle. “There’s a lesson for you, Arthur. You should dress for the impression you want to make.”

“I expect he knows that one already, in part,” Hosea contradicted him. “He already knew who would be a good mark by their clothes.”

Something flashed in Arthur’s green eyes, and he looked away, obviously feeling foolish again, as he carefully put the iron back on the shelf, not saying anything.

She leaned close, lowering her voice so the others couldn’t hear. “First time I saw one, I thought it was just some weird decoration folk used,” she offered. “Or maybe a paperweight. Wasn’t quite sure.”

“Rich folk have all sorts of useless crap,” and she could see the relief in his eyes at her throwing him that lifeline, and the smile he gave her for it.

#yeehawgust #susan grimshaw #arthur morgan #bessie matthews #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #rdr2 #writing #fic from the parking lot #arthur still thinks doors are stupid twenty plus years later clearly #given how he kool aid mans through them given half the chance #john was a feral gremlin but arthur was definitely a feral puppy

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bforbbgirl · 4 years

Text

Traqué

Summary - a young woman’s life is thrown into chaos when someone from her past comes back, showing that he will stop at nothing to fulfill his darkest desires.

Warning - slow burn, language, mention of drug use, death, violence, smut, themes of stalking, and other tw things.

1|chapter two

You haven’t left your apartment since Friday evening.

After your call with your sister and the endless voicemails you’ve left your therapist, you shut all your curtains and checked the locks on your door almost every hour on the hour. You barely slept a wink of sleep, you could barely hold any food down without your stomach knotting in discomfort at the thought that he was out somewhere out there and you just knew he was looking for you.

Lewis had called a few times but you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up any of his calls. How do you explain the reason you took off without seeming like you were losing your mind? Apart of you felt like he wouldn’t understand, maybe he’ll think you just took off because the date was going horrible which was far from the truth, so you left your phone to ring and after a notification would signal the voicemail left behind but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen too it, you were sure that you had ruined any chance of ever dating him now.

You hated this, hated that he had so much power over you even after all this time; thinking about all the steps you had taken to hide your identity and anything about your life back home. Your sister Mya being the only person you’ve told about your move to LA, wanting to be discreet for your own safety but that seems to have gone out the window.

On Monday, you had called into work, using some sick time you were able to get and knowing that you wouldn’t be able to focus on work, let alone be around other people, so you’ve taken the time to get dressed and go to your appointment with doctor Moorse.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Moorse, or Tammy as she told you too call her, offers you kind smile, holding her office door open for you as you take a step in. You take a few minutes, looking towards the windows with a few of the neighboring businesses and people walking along the sidewalk.

“Would you like some tea?” She asked, walking over towards the mini coffee bar she had set up in the corner of the room. You shook your head before taking a seat slowly on the light brown leather sofa, rubbing your palms on your jeans as you try to calm your nerves.

Tammy soon comes around and takes a seat across from you before taking off her glasses, a disappointed sigh comes from your lips. “Y/n, I just wanted to start off by apologizing for not answering the phone when you called.” You go to assure her that there wasn’t a problem but she shakes her head. “I think we’ve established a pretty good relationship here Y/n and I promised that I would always be a call away but I did not follow through on my end and therefore, I sincerely apologize.”

After accepting her apology, you dived into what happened Friday, you told her how you were nervous but still had a great time with Lewis but then you seen Matthew there and you ran, leaving Lewis there without an explanation and how you spent the remainder of your weekend in your apartment, afraid to even leave your apartment.

Tammy patiently listen as you spoke, her pen and pad sat in her lap her hands twisting the pen in her fingertips but she still waits a moment before speaking. “So, how does that make you feel now? ”

You haven’t thought about it, you didn’t know what you were suppose to do. “I-” a frown forms on your lips as you think more and more.

“I’ve kept having this dream...after what happened that night I-I keep having the same dream that he was-was...that I was sleeping in bed but my eyes were open and I could see him standing over him. Not touching me or saying anything too me just-watching me and I couldn’t move and he’s just smiling and smiling and smiling at me and-” You quickly wipe the tears that had fallen from your eyes as you recall the same dream that’s been haunting you since that night, “and I can hear their voice-”

“From your parents?” Tammy asked to clarify what you meant, she’s heard this story a hundred of times by now but she still asked you questions.

You nod your head, your mind replaying that unfaithful night over and over again in your head, the sound of the family dogs barking, the sounds of glass breaking, a gun firing, the sounds of your mother screaming, the smell of gasoline..you wanted to vomit, to erase your mind of that night completely.

Tammy studies you, seeing you shutting down and caving into yourself again wasn’t what she wanted but she knew you needed to go at your own pace. “Lets go back to earlier in the evening Friday, you were on a date with a man from your work?” She asked, steering the conversation away from your thoughts from home.

“Uh, he’s a customer actually.” You sniffle, wiping away any stray tears. “I haven’t spoken too him since I left. I just...I wouldn’t even know how to explain it.”

“Do you see yourself being in a relationship with this new man in your life?” You had shrugged your shoulder a little, thinking about the possibilities.

“I have only know him for about year I guess, not all that well but it was nice getting to know him..”

“You still can.” She state, in a matter or facts kind of way but you shook your head. “He probably hates me.” You state, sighing as you think about it.

“I hesitated when he first asked me and during dinner it felt like he was doing all the talking and I was just...there and then I just left like that.” Shaking your head, you glance down at your jeans, picking at the material. “He has tried calling and he’s left a few messages to see if I was okay and; he’s being so patient but how patient could a man be before he says ‘screw it this is too much work’ and just leave?”

Tammy stops writing on her notepad, waiting for you to finish your thought but she finds you staring at her, actually looking for an answer. “Well, I always believe that actions speak louder than words and if someone shows you who they really are and where their intentions lie. In your case, even though you don’t know him from a fly on the wall, it seems like he’s always made his intentions known with you.”

You sit back, listening to her words as she continues. “The best thing you can do Y/n, is to trust in your own gut. What is your gut telling you about this man?”

Your mind goes back to that evening, sitting across from him, feeling happiest for the first time in years and that brought a smile too your face. You liked how you felt whenever you talked too him, even if the conversation was no more than five minutes, you just liked him.

Tammy can’t help but feel happy seeing the small smile forming on your face as you process your thoughts, you have been her patient for little over four years now but has known you since you were a baby with both her and your mother being sorority sisters, so to watch your growth always brought a smile to her face.

“So, tell me more about your week.”

After your session with Tammy, you felt a better sense of clarity and a small grasp back on your sanity. You shoot your sister a text, keeping her up to date on the progress so far in your sessions as well as to catch up with her to make sure she was doing okay.

You were wandering around Ocean Avenue, enjoying the weather as the cool breeze from the ocean cooling you from the California heat; you felt good after your talk with Tammy and knew that going back home would end with you locking yourself in your apartment again so you enjoyed your walk out. Stopping at a street vendor for some fruit and water you continue on your walk, window shopping a few outfits as you past, Tammy did mention that it was time for you to start making your apartment feel less like a prison and more like a home. You haven’t brought anything outside the standard furniture but there wasn’t anything there that scream you and you wanted to change that.

Stopping in front of antique store, a royal velvet blue love seat sat on display just in your price budget, you pull your phone from your back pocket, snapping a photo of it before someone clearing their throat, gaining your attention.

Lewis stood off too your right, offering you a small smile. “Hey, Y/n”

You were shocked for a moment, not expecting to see him but apart of you was actually happy to see him, “hi Lewis.” you smile back before you both fall into silence, you wanted to say so much but you didn’t know where to start.

Lewis finally lets out a sigh, scratching the back of his before he focuses on you. “I’m sorry about the other night Y/n.”

You quickly shake your head. “N-No, I should be the one to apologize.” You rush out quickly. “I shouldn’t of left like that..” you shift a little on your feet, feeling small under his gaze, you can’t help but think that he has to be upset at you or something so you brings your eyes back to his, “I’m sorry Lewis.” You say softly, holding each others gaze as unspoken words pass between you two before Lewis takes a step closer towards and you feel the warmth on his hands holding on to your shoulder gently.

“Y/n-”

A voice from behind calls out to Lewis, another male and woman falling behind break whatever bubble you were both in and you watch as something flashes in his eyes but its gone the moment he looks away, an easy going smile plastered on his face now as he turns towards the two.

“How’s it going guys?”

The woman following behind soon hurries over, throwing herself at Lewis before clinging on to his arm. “Where have you been? I feel like I don’t see you anymore, baby!” she whines.

Your eyes quickly shift to Lewis to see his jaw clenched tight but the easy smile on his face remains. The man that had called for him reaches for you hand, introducing himself as Marcus before placing a kiss on the back of your hand which you soon pull away quickly.

“Where you headed beautiful? You should come join us for lunch?” Marcus had ask, either being completely oblivion to Lewis death glares or simply ignoring him altogether, Marcus offers you a playful smile.

The woman finally speaks up, her hard glare on you, “I’m sure she has other plans Marcus, just like us.” she fits in, making it known you weren’t welcome to join the three of them for lunch.

You offer them polite smile, already feeling your eyes threatening to water with tears. “Actually, I’ve already had a few plans so-but thanks for the offer.” you spare Lewis another glance, his eyes almost looks like he’s pleading with you.

For what? You didn’t bother to stick around and find out.

Lewis was in a bad mood.

If he had known he would of ran into you today then he would of had his schedule cleared and would of spent the whole day with just you. Instead, he was stuck sitting in a booth with Kim to his left and Marcus over on his far right ordering drinks for the table as they await their guest for the evening.

Waitress comes over, dropping off the drinks but lingering a bit for Lewis or Marcus attention before stomping away with a huff from being ignored. Kim takes a moment to glance over at Lewis who’s been tense sense they have left the strip, checking his phone every five minutes and she was getting annoyed.

“What’s your deal?”

Sparing her a glance, Lewis scoffs a little before taking a sip from his glass. “Why’d you have to do that earlier?”

Now it was her turn to scoff. “Do what?” she ask, faux innocent and all.

Lewis glares at Kim before shaking his head, “Never mind.” He says before pulling out his phone, scrolling through it and again she finds herself annoyed.

“Are you upset because I scared off your little girlfriend?” A smirk plays on her face as she watches his jaw tense more, the veins in hands becoming more profound the tighter his grip goes around his glass and phone.

Kim always knew just the right buttons to push to tick him off. They’ve been friends since they were kids, she knew Lewis better than she knew herself so she knew exactly what she was doing seeing him and whomever that other girl was, the looks Lewis was giving her; Kim hated it. So she did what she normally does, play the fake-girlfriend till the other women back off.

Lewis may not be able too see it but she was doing them both a favor. Less randoms coming into this line of business and she gets to keep Lewis to herself.

Win-win.

Finishing his drink, Lewis slams his glass down hard enough on the table that she was surprised that it didn’t shatter on impact. Kim looks back at him, seeing that same unreadable yet easy going smile that sent a chill down her back.

“Kim, do you know how long DeMarco is going to take until he gets here?” He ask calmly, a little too calm for her liking but at last, she reaches back towards her phone, checking for any updates before sighing.

“Five minutes away.”

Lewis leans back in his seat, replaying earlier events in his head, he wanted to say so much too you and he knew that you felt the same, he just knew but there was something holding you back and he wanted to know what it was but now he was wondering if he had officially ruined any chances with you.

“Good evening, I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting.”

Glancing up, the older gentleman appears before them, DeMarco Esposito stood before them, making Lewis sit up a little straighter as DeMarco drapes his coat over the back of the chair before taking a seat, only then does Lewis notice the other male standing a few feet away, most liking keeping guard.

DeMarco glance back and forth between the three of them before a low chuckle leaves his lips, relaxing Lewis a bit. “Lewis, my boy, how have things been?”

Lewis sighs a little, knowing he’s really not asking because he cares, DeMarco just wants to be sure that all his numbers and product are still good.

“Thing’s have been good. We’ve been getting shipments in on schedule and as far as talking goes, no one is uttering a peep about what we’ve got going on.” Lewis knew that DeMarco was all about business so might as well get right too.

A moment of silence stretches out as DeMarco takes in all the information, nodding his head slowly before he speaks. “I’m going to need you too cut ties with Gomez and his people.”

“What!?”

DeMarco quickly cuts Marcus a hard glance, silencing him before he could continue. Lewis watches for a moment before he speaks, “Are you sure about that?”

DeMarco soon turns his attention back to Lewis, “Why wouldn’t I be sure that?” though he seemed calm, Lewis knew better and knew that questioning DeMarco may have some consequences but as of late, DeMarco has becoming more and more reckless with his decisions and that could cost them a more than DeMarco thinks.

“We’ve been doing business with the Gomez’s for decades now, it would be foolish to just cut them off especially with the heat finally off our backs.”

DeMarco chuckles lowly before shaking his head slowly, “Foolish? Young man, you wouldn’t even begin to understand how foolish things really are. Gomez and his little gang are selling to kids, over taxing their neighbors, blowing each others brains out and killing for sport; no care in the world but you think that I am being the foolish one? Son, you have no idea how foolish I can be.”

Lewis remains silent, his jaw clenched but he keeps his focus down on the hard wood table. Satisfied with the lack of responses, DeMarco is soon out of his seat and pulling his coat back on before tossing a stack of cash in an envelope on the table,

“Take care of Gomez, quickly before I start losing my patience.”

***********************************************************************************

A small sighs leave your lips as you settle back into bed with your laptop on your lap.

After leaving Santa Monica, you spend most of your day online shopping for your apartment, Travis and Nikki both reaching out to make sure you were okay since they believe you were out of work from being sick and you appreciated them checking in.

Now, after showering, you lay back in bed and start up where you left off at on Scandal. Only fifteen minutes in does your phone starts to ring, pausing your show, you reach over for your phone on your end table seeing Mya’s name and you soon pick up.

“Hey Mya, what’s up?”

“Just calling to talk-uh-are you busy?”

You soon sit up, tossing your laptop on to your bed before cupping your phone closer to your ear. “Is everything okay? Are you alright?”

It’s quiet on the other end for a moment before you hear her sighing. “I’m fine, Y/n but I just want you too be fine.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“After you called, I did some digging with Ryan and we called Maywest Rehabilitation Center about Matt..Y/n, he’s been dead since last year.”

You grow quiet, hearing your name being called but it sounds so far away as you let the news sink in before speaking. “H-How?”

“Suicide, they didn’t go into further details after that but they did say his mom came to pick up his things.” Mya says on her head, knowing that this is a lot for you to take in but it is what needed to be done.

“Mya I-I’m going to call you back.” After saying goodbye to your little sister, you sat on your bed, stuck on what you’ve just been told. After his trial, you had packed up and moved from multiple cities, the last being Seattle before you settled here in LA all because you were afraid that he would find you.

Tammy had said that you would feel a sense of paranoia from time to time the first year Matthew was put away. The first week you were seeing him everywhere so maybe it wasn’t any difference but that night, he looked so real, you swore that it was him but given the news now, a sense of relief some have came over you but in the back of your mind you had a feeling that he was still watching.

He was always watching.

*************************************

Tag list: @honeychicanawrites @royallyprincesslilly @chaneajoyyy @munteanhorewrites @night-of-the-living-shred @fumbling-fanfics @crushed-pink-petals-writes @dc41896 @blackwomanwriter

A/N: Chapter two is out. Looks like Lewis maybe into some shady business as well as our Reader finding some shocking new information. Has everything really been in their head? What’s Kim deal? I hope you guy liked this chapter. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged (or untagged)

#lewis tan #lewis tan x black reader #lewis tan x reader #lewis tan fan fic #au fic #lewis tan au #lewis tan imagine #lewis tan x woc #lewis tan x poc #matthew grey gubler

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writingshirbert · 5 years

Text

A Royal mistake

Prompt: Gilbert is jealous at Roy. Set after 3x06

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In the last few months a strange feeling of loneliness clouded his life. It was as if something was missing and the way it made him feel made him think the missing piece must've been crucial. He spent his summer working the farm with Bash, walking the woods with Delphine in his arms, accompanying Matthew Cuthbert in his barn in fixing an old typewriter of his, one that he had promised to give Gilbert afterwards. Sundays and Saturdays he went to Charlottetown to see Winnie, they went to tea or simply just walked around, sometimes dropping by to see doctor Ward, but that was all. He had found their conversations turning to idle chatter and started feeling more and more like they've ran out of topics to talk about. The lesson of tea etiquette she had given him on their first date had come in handy, Gilbert resolving to talking about the weather and decor much more than usual. He was certain Winifred felt this shift in their relationship as well, as she started talking about moving to Europe with her auntie. Perhaps she will find a better beaux there, Gilbert thought to himself. He also couldn't help but notice his decreased lack of interest in her romantically, she had become a good friend, however all the attraction he felt towards her in the beginning had faded away. Mary's words about marrying for love echoed in his head every time he thought about taking the next step in this courtship, making him unable to do it. This can't be what love feels like, right? It is the stuff of tales and novels, wars had been fought over love, so surely it must feel different... Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had accompanied him on the train rides in July, bit distant but still providing pleasant company. He didn't know why she went so frequently, but he had no business to meddle in her life. Marilla had allowed it, that's all he needed to know. In August, she was gone. After Diana Barry went away for finishing school in Paris, Anne had perished from Avonlea. It crossed his mind that she went to spend the last month with her, but he was sure the Cuthberts would never allow Anne to travel such distance. He thought it best he didn't ask, it was enough that the image of Anne flooded his thoughts every night before bed, appeared in his dreams and in the morning, first thing with the crow of the rooster. It was a strange unpleasant feeling, it couldn't be love either, because it hurt, right? He needn't think about her during the day. But he did so anyways. He thought about why she stopped coming by their house, stopped comparing their notes in class, stopped giving him excited glances during the science lessons, stopped teasing him about his grammar, didn't once look in his eyes during the barn dance at the fair and started snapping at him at the meetings of the Avonlea Gazette and much more. She was still there, but she just wasn't there for him anymore. He saw her sometimes when he came home to take a break from the heat, but she talked mainly with Bash and usually perished away quite quickly. When they tied for Queens she didn't come to congratulate him and only replied with a thanks when he did, using none of her usual witty humor. She was quite well in other ways, always being her gay shiny self with others, which hurt even more. He told himself he didn't care and that was that.

"Gilbert Blythe, how lovely to see you this fine afternoon," the voice of Rachel Lynde echoed behind his back. He was waiting in line at the shop, looking to get some cucumber seeds, as August was the time to plant them, when a bulky lady appeared behind him. He liked Rachel just fine, however he wasn't in the mood for her sharp chatter, so he prayed the line would move quickly. At the counter an older gentleman was carefully counting dried dates, an abundance of them in Gilbert's opinion, dropping some on the ground and picking them up very slowly. He sighed loudly.

"How do you do, Mrs Lynde?" He smiled at her.

"Such a nice boy you are... You're turning into a fine young man I can tell ya. And handsome, too," she winked. "I'm quite well, thank you for asking. I'm getting some flour for Marilla Cuthbert, seeing as Anne is staying with Miss Barry for the time being and Matthew and Jerry are busy with farm work, she hasn't anyone to run these errands for her. She doesn't know I went, of course. That woman doesn't like help, such a shame... She is getting older, you know. I went over to tea yesterday and saw she was running low on flour, so I thought I'd do her a favor and pick some up for her."

He had become accustomed to Rachel's rumblings, usually paying them no mind, for his father had always set a good example in such matters. Gossip isn't healthy, and howbeit it's more of a womanly thing, you still can't escape it as a man. However a part of her monologue caught his mind.

"Anne's in Charlottetown?" He heard himself say without thinking.

"Oh yes. Why, you see, she's become quite good friends with that Mackenzie boy Josephine Barry's taken into her care. Plus, she wanted to familiarize herself with the town more, now that she's going to live there while she's at Queens. Her house isn't close to Queens, but Cole rides to his academy in a carriage every morning, so there's no trouble taking her too. She's even started moving her things there! Oh, how I don't understand that Barry woman. Having had ten children of my own, I can't imagine taking more of them into my home at such age. But I suppose she must be all lonely in that big house of hers. Don't be so glum, Anne will be back in Green Gables last week of summer. I do have to admit, I gave that Anne girl hell when she first came to Avonlea, but I too do miss her company dearly. She's a strange one, to say at least, but one can't help but love her, can one?" she laughed.

"I can't imagine how Marilla must miss her... But she's almost a woman now and one must expect her getting on her own feet sooner or later. I heard she's even got a chum there... Poor Marilla, I hadn't had the heart to tell her about it. She still sees her as a little girl," Rachel shook her head disapprovingly...

"And what about you, Gilbert? I know you have a sweetheart of your own..." Rachel grinned.

The line has moved a little bit, so they both took a step forward. "Yes, she's great," he said rather unconvincingly. His mind kept trailing to an image of Anne walking arm in arm with another man and he felt an unfamiliar feeling rise up in his chest.

"And to imagine both you and Anne might marry into such wealthy families, you have a good life ahead of ya... I told you he's wealthy, did I not? Very handsome too, such as yourself... Oh, how wonderful it is to be young and in love... I would do anything to relive my youth with Thomas, but I suppose being an old married couple has it's charms too. It's so strange, after seeing you and Anne dance in school I thought you were sweet on each other. I can see now that I was mistaken, although I don't mind as much, seeing how well everything worked out anyways."

Sweet on each other, he thought... So if other people had noticed, it couldn't have been all in his head. If Rachel Lynde wasn't staring at him, he would probably go bang his head against a wall.

He was relieved when he saw Miss Stacy enter the shop and head towards them. "Oh, Rachel, please do relieve this boy from the reins of your chatter," his former teacher laughed. "Young boys don't care about the problems of us old folk."

Muriel Stacy winked at him. "It's good to see you, Gilbert. I hope you're not working yourself to the bone and have found some time for relaxation this summer. A good book always does good for one's soul."

The walk back home felt longer than usual, uncomfortable thoughts creeping into his mind. He thought about paying Anne a visit tomorrow while he's at Charlottetown, maybe he could even catch up with Cole while he's at it, but then changed his mind. She hasn't mentioned leaving, in fact she didn't even come to say goodbye, even if it was just a three week visit. She obviously doesn't want him getting involved.

The following day he felt especially lost at tea with Winnie, remaining silent for most of it.

"Is something troubling you, dear?" she asked. "I feel like Mr Bones would be a more garrulous company than you today," she cracked a joke, but he didn't laugh.

"I'm sorry, Winnie."

"You needn't apologize, just tell me what I can do to cheer you up."

He looked thoroughly at the woman sitting in front of him. She was smiling at him with her ocean blue eyes, her hair perfectly done as always. She was wearing a very fashionable golden yellow dress and she was undeniably beautiful. And smart. And funny. She was almost perfect. There was one fault however, which was preventing him from loving her fully. She wasn't Anne.

"I don't think we are right for each other, Winifred."

She looked down, a little shocked but not mad, like he thought she would be. After a little while she sighed, nodding. "You know I would be perfectly happy with you. But I have to admit this relationship doesn't give me much thrill, if that's what you're talking about."

"I feel that way too. I hope you're not hurt," he said, taking her arm. "I like you very much, Winnie."

"Oh, I am hurt a little, but I do understand, because I feel it too... We could marry and live a life that would be just fine, but maybe there should be more to it indeed. I like you very much too, Gilbert Blythe. I hope we'll remain friends."

He stayed sitting for a while after Winnie left, the tea was still warm and he had plenty of time before his train left, so he decided to think everything through.

If Anne had really felt something for him back then, it's natural she was hurt when he brought Winifred to the town fair. She did run off and acted rather strangely, but acting strangely isn't unusual for Anne and that's why he didn't put it all together... He smiled at the memory of the judges spitting out Anne's cake. He knows he shouldn't, but oh, that really was rather amusing. Poor Anne, he thought.

Gazing out of the window, he saw Cole MacKenzie on the street talking with a tall dark young man. He stood up abruptly, threw money on the table and left, running after them.

"Cole," he shouted and waved, crossing the street. Cole turned around and smiled, taller and older than Gilbert remembered him.

"Gilbert," he said, shaking his hand. "Long time no see..."

Gilbert nodded, studying the guy he was with. He was rich, that much was obvious from the way that he dressed. Gilbert thought him objectively handsome too, with his dark curly hair and dark complexion, Gilbert could see him being a lady magnet.

"This is my classmate, Royal Gardner," Cole introduced him and Royal shook his head, extending his hand to Gilbert.

"Just call me Roy, please. Cole likes to introduce me by my full name to make people uncomfortable and I can see it's working. My parents are rather funny people, you see..."

"Where's Anne?" He blurted out and earned himself a strange look from Roy, but he didn't care.

"She's in the library, you know how she gets around books," Cole grinned. "We were just on our way to see her, do you want to join us?"

Gilbert thought about it. He did really want to see her, but he thought it might look weird if he just appeared before her. "Oh no, I couldn't, you obviously have other plans, I wouldn't want to intrude."

Cole laughed.

"No, not at all, come... We can catch up on the way."

So Gilbert walked with them. Cole told him about his life at the academy, he was obviously much happier and Gilbert was glad for that. He hadn't seen him in two years, but it was as if they never parted, conversation flowing easily between them. Gilbert didn't have many friends his age, but Cole was much more mature than most boys in Avonlea and very easy to talk to. Roy was a funny lad, Gilbert observed. He too used a lot of big words, kind of like Anne, but it seemed as if he used them less seriously, just for fun and to show off his high class education. When they reached the library, Anne was already standing outside waiting for them. She gave Gilbert a surprised look but she didn't seem bothered by his presence.

"Gilbert, how unexpected..." she said, walking over to him. "How are you? How's everything in Avonlea? Is Matthew and Marilla well?"

He assured her they were well and promised to give them both her regards. He saw Roy leaning into Anne's side, she didn't flinch in the slightest, which showed this was something normal for them. He kissed her hand and she gave him a brief smile, but remained focused on Gilbert. "What are you doing here? Visiting Winnie? You know, I get what you like about her... We met a few days ago and I've discovered a kindred spirit in her."

He smiled at that. Of course she and Anne would get along, they're both amazing women.

"She and I, uh... Parted ways."

Anne's look was unreadable.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

He didn't stay long. Roy muttered something about them being late to tea at Miss Barry's and the trio took off, Anne holding Royal's hand as they walked. Looking at her in the arms of another man, a wealthy, tall and good looking man made anger bubble up inside of Gilbert. He realized right in that moment that not admitting his feelings to her back then was truly a Royal mistake on his part.

#i don't know how to use read more don't kill me #I think I nailed Rachel's character #awae #awae fanfic #anne x gilbert #anne and gilbert #anne with an e #shirbert fanfiction #shirbert

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