#2. more pressed four leaf clovers for the year. found all in one day

[icewindandboringhorror]

sleepy mr baby + other random misc images

[verai-marcel]

The Light That You Shine (RDR2 Fanfic, John Marston x F!Reader, Chapter 3 of 6, 18+)

Tags, Warnings, & Notes in Chapter 1.  |  Chapter 2

AO3 Link is here.

Chapter 3 - Gravity

Word Count: 2130 

You were absolutely humming and dancing around your shop the next day. The date had gone brilliantly; the two of you talked about the town and how much it had changed in so little time; he hadn’t been back for a year, and you hadn’t been back for two years, only having returned a week ago. He talked about living in the big city, but was vague about where he lived. You were surprised that he’d drive all the way over here to see you.

“40 minutes ain’t that far,” he had said. To you, the 20 minutes to your aunt’s place was an eternity. But you also hated driving. Or being in cars in general. Part of the reason you picked the place you lived was because just about everything you needed was within walking distance.

He had bought you dinner last night at your favorite little burger place. You had decided that if he was going to get to know you, then you might as well be up front about your eating habits. As you happily devoured your double burger cooked with onions and mustard mixed into the patties, you had looked over to see him watching you, a grin on his face.

“What?” you had asked, your mouth stuffed with burger.

“I love a woman who enjoys her food.”

You had nearly choked. Instead, you had taken a sip of your neopolitan shake and continued to eat, ignoring the heat suffusing your cheeks.

Tonight, he said he was going to let you pick the restaurant again, since you were paying. You had argued that since you had picked when he was paying, it was only fair that he picked this time. 

But he was savvy; he told you that you’d know the area better than he did; he trusted your judgement.

So tonight was going to be the flip side of your food habits; a vegetarian place. It was a small place that specialized in veggie bowls with a grain of some kind. You wondered how he would handle it. You knew some guys were picky about this sort of thing, and while you had a fleeting thought that it might not be fair to judge someone based on their eating habits, you also knew that you wouldn’t have fun with someone who wasn’t as adventurous as you were.

When he showed up at 6PM again, just as you were wrapping up your work, he walked inside and looked around, marveling at your work. You had taken today to decorate the shop, put up signs, and make sure everything was beautiful and presentable. When you started, you weren’t sure you were going to be ready in time for your Saturday grand opening, but with John’s help the other day, you had a bit of time to spare.

“Place looks real nice,” he commented as he leaned closer to one of the display benches. You watched as he leaned in and sniffed the peony blossom, closing his eyes. It was such a contrast to how he looked. His biker boots were worn and scuffed, and a green plaid flannel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp, looking black as if he had just gotten out of the shower. He wore ripped black jeans and a black button down sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscles perfectly. 

“So, where we goin’ tonight?” he asked.

You grinned.

***

To your surprise, he didn’t complain; he only nodded and went with you, walking the three blocks to The Green Grill. You helped him order, and he didn’t try to mansplain or anything of the sort. He was just a down-to-earth, humble guy, and you could feel yourself falling for him more, even though it was only the second date.

Dinner. The second dinner.

Afterwards, like a gentleman, he walked you back to your place, holding your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. He had wrapped his flannel around your shoulders when you had shivered.

“That wasn’t too bad,” John said as the two of you reached your place. “Better than what I was expectin’.”

“And what were you expecting?”

“I dunno, goat food, I guess.”

You laughed at his answer. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t hate it,” you teased. Then you looked at him for a few moments. “You’re not just saying that to be nice, are you?”

He pulled you close. “I ain’t a nice man. But I’m always honest.” He cupped your cheek as he spoke, making sure he had eye contact with you so you knew his words were true.

Your heart beat stuttered at how close he was.

“Can I see you again?” he murmured, his raspy voice sending electric tingles down your spine.

“Of course,” you breathed. “If you want, you could come to my grand opening tomorrow morning.”

He suddenly looked a little sad. “I can’t, I have work.”

You nodded. “That’s alright. So do I,” you said, one side of your lips quirking up in a joking grin.

“Dammit, you’re so cute.”

He tipped your chin up with his forefinger and slowly leaned in. You gravitated towards him, closing your eyes as he closed his.

John’s small moan of pleasure as his lips met yours shot a zing of desire through your body. He stepped forward, pressing you up against the glass door as he kissed you more, his body covering yours, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you against him.

Then he pulled away, leaving you both breathless, pupils dilated with desire.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” he said, even though his face clearly said he wasn’t sorry.

“No, it’s fine, you.. That was nice,” you finished lamely.

He softly smiled at you before he took your hand, raised it to his mouth, and kissed the back of your knuckles. “I’ll call you when I’m free. I promise.”

You nodded, surprised by his touching gesture. He caressed your face delicately with his fingertips. “You get some rest. You got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” He kissed your forehead. “See you later, sweetheart.”

As he walked away, you realized, with the pounding of your heart, that he could have easily continued to make out with you some more and you would not have stopped him. Instead, he hadn’t even given you the option to ask for more; he had stepped away to let you rest.

You went into your shop and turned in for the night, but couldn’t stop thinking of stormy grey eyes and a wry smile.

***

“That was barely enough to cover the work it took to get those cars,” John grumbled as he stuffed his cash into his wallet. Dutch had come by, dropped off the envelopes of money for the gang, and had taken off, claiming he had more work to find for them.

Arthur shrugged, but his face showed creases of worry on his forehead. “Dutch said it’s gettin’ harder to sell these days.”

“Then maybe we should find regular jobs.”

Arthur stopped walking and turned to John, who had continued to walk to his bike.

“What?” John asked when he finally noticed that Arthur wasn’t next to him.

Deep in thought, Arthur looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “This ain’t the way we was. We used to ride around for fun, took on jobs that helped others. Now, well, now we just use our bikes because they’re good for gettin’ away from the cops.”

They were both silent. They knew that the others had part time work, or worked a series of gigs to make money besides their work with the gang. For John and Arthur, the gang was all they had. Dutch was all they had, for the longest time. They were two orphans with a charismatic man for an adopted father who was changing more and more by the day.

Perhaps the silence was to mourn the loss of the life they had. But it hung in the air like a hangman’s noose, threatening to cut off their air.

John took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “I’m goin’ for a ride.”

Arthur just nodded. “I’m gonna make a couple of deliveries,” he said as he walked towards the Sprinter van.

John knew what those deliveries were. He didn’t have to like it, but the pay provided for them, so he said nothing. He knew Arthur felt the same.

Hopping onto his bike, John took off to let his mind wander, letting himself ride with no destination in mind.

He found himself in a familiar town, on a familiar street, near a familiar storefront.

***

It had been a few days since you had seen John. He had called you at least once a day, asking you how your day was, asking how you were feeling. You didn’t ask when he could come see you; you didn’t want to seem clingy. He hadn’t said anything about when he’d be coming back; you assumed it was work that was keeping him away, and you understood that.

He had yet to call you tonight, as you sat at your work bench, putting your tools away.

Someone knocked on your door.

You saw a couple of older men in biker jackets, holding their helmets under their arms. Coming up to the door, you hesitated to open it after seeing their stern expressions.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed for the night,” you said through the glass.

“You new around here?” the taller of the two men asked gruffly.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Technically you grew up here, but then you left two years ago. “What do you want?” you asked, ignoring his question.

“Insurance funds. To protect your shop against vandalism.”

“I already pay insurance,” you said, ignoring the fact that this was clearly an extortion attempt.

“This is different. Call it a special insurance.”

“I’m calling the cops,” you said, pulling out your phone to call 911.

“Hey now, no need for that,” the shorter man said. “If you don’t think you need it, we’ll be on our way.” He nudged the other man with his elbow and together they walked off.

You looked at the back of their jackets; in large letters, ODB written across the top, with a green skull inside of a four-leaf clover below it. The letters MC were on the right of the symbol.

A biker gang.

You quickly googled ODB MC, to find that it was the O’Driscoll Boys Motorcycle Club, and they had recently started moving north. They had members known for extortion and money laundering, but the club itself had never been shut down, since it was the members and not the actual organization that did any of the crimes, or so the news said.

Shit. You wanted no part of this.

You called the police station to report the incident. Afterwards, as you attempted to put your phone back into your pocket, you realized you were shaking.

“John…” you mumbled, knowing that you could just call him if you wanted to hear his voice. How had he become the first name you thought of?

In your head, you heard his voice saying your name.

Then you heard a knock on the glass and turned around.

“John!”

You ran to the door and unlocked it quickly, throwing it open.

He looked at you, his eyes taking in your state in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You crumpled to the ground and started shaking again.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he coaxed, kneeling down and holding you in his arms. He rubbed your back soothingly. “I got you.”

***

You told him about the men, about the symbols on their jackets. John’s expression turned dark as you told him everything. 

“They won’t quit, they’ll keep comin’ back. It ain’t safe for you here all alone.”

“I called the cops, they said they’ll put some extra patrols around here for a while.”

John let out a snort. “They’ll just wait’em out, then they’ll come back.” He suddenly gripped your shoulders. “You have any problems, you call me, you hear?”

You nodded. “Okay, John. But you’re 40 minutes away, I don’t expect you to just come riding in if I call you.”

John hung his head. “I know. But I’ll try to be here as often as I can. Alright?”

The conviction on his expression was touching, but you were a practical person. Unless he moved to your town, you were mostly on your own.

“Why don’t you stay with your aunt and uncle for a while?”

The thought had crossed your mind, but you had dismissed it pretty quickly. “I don’t want to trouble them…”

He shook you slightly. “This is your life we’re talkin’ about here! Troublin’ someone is the least of your worries!”

You nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll call them.”

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

Chapter 4

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Ep - Part 4)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Just wanted to say that you guys are continuously kind people, and I appreciate every read, like, kudos, ask, comment, and reblog on this ridiculously long story! :D

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic  @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera

Indy walks ahead of him, her leash tugging him along, while Emma walks beside him, their steps matching up as their feet move over the pavement in the gardens. The dullness of the winter plants, brown and gray trees barren of leaves, are fading away and blooming into lush greens and vibrant colors. It’s still cold outside, temperatures dipping low, so he and Emma are bundled up as they take their early morning walk, something they’ve taken up together in the past few weeks.

He finds it relaxing with the simplicity of it all, and he knows that Emma feels the same. It’s a way for them both to get some exercise on days when the gym in their home goes unused as well as a way to give Indy more space to run. She’s calmed as she’s gotten a bit older, but she’s still rambunctious and would likely need acres and acres of land to roam and be completely happy with her running space. Maybe they should travel up to Norfolk and go to their country home so she has a larger backyard and he and Emma have more privacy to go out and about outside of their home without the interference of photographers and reporters aching for a picture of Emma’s stomach.

The last two months of their lives have been, quite frankly, some of the most hectic of his life. Finding out Emma is pregnant was honestly one of the best moments of his life, even if how she phrased it was a little cheeky after such an awful scare. God, when she fell on that stage, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. He’d never been more terrified of anything in his entire life. Something was wrong with his wife, his best friend, and he didn’t know what it was. She was conscious the entire time, but she just wasn’t right. And the two hours between her fall and her telling him that they were having a child, well, he felt as if they’d never end.

Now he knows he was being a bit dramatic, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty instead of the blurry, faded vision that comes when you’re in the moment. Emma and the baby are just fine, growing like a weed really. She’s got the smallest of stomachs, something she woke him up and showed him just a few days ago. She was so excited, her eyes lighting up and practically sparkling under the bathroom’s lights, and sure enough, there was the slightest curve to her stomach, more physical proof that they’re having a child, not that he really needed anymore. But it was something special, and he was just as thrilled to get to see the changes in her stomach.  

And in her breasts, but that doesn’t seem to be a very fatherly thing to think. He thinks it, though, and he really appreciates the growth and how her libido has come back in full force in the past few days. That’s simply something he won’t be sharing with the child one day, but he hopes she (he’s absolutely convinced they’re having a little girl even if he can’t seem to come up with the reason why) can see how enamored he is with her mother. If not, he’s failed them both.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” he questions, reaching his hand out and twining their fingers together while they continue to walk together, nearing Liam and Abigail’s apartment.

“I think we should go on a babymoon.”

“What the bloody hell is a babymoon? I’m pretty sure that’s not a phase of the moon they taught us in primary school.”

She laughs before taking a step closer to release his hand and tuck her arm around the crook of his elbow while resting her head on his shoulder. He knows she’s being affectionate, but he also knows that she’s not willing to admit that her hands are cold because he suggested she wear gloves before they went out and she didn’t. She’s stubborn as hell, his love.

“I mean, it’s just, like, a vacation before the baby is born. The name is a ridiculous thing. I know it’s super trendy and all, but maybe we could get away for a week or a weekend before I’m not allowed to fly anymore. I think something different might be good for us. Something warm.”

“So before you’re heavily pregnant? When can you not fly? Six or seven months?”

“Yep, I was thinking next month or May. Maybe June if we don’t travel too far away.”

“Well next month is busy.” He runs through the plans he knows they have, trying to remember everything off the top of his head while attempting to get Indy to move away from the rose bushes. “We had to push back the Kidding a Goal two-year event already to May, and Liam’s fortieth birthday party is happening. I’ve also got the trip to Poland. Those are just the big things, I think. We’d also have to work around our engagements, but the middle of May would probably work.”

“We could do it for our anniversary. Just earlier.” “True,” he agrees, continuing to run through his calendar in his head while tugging at Indy’s leash again, the dog finally deciding to move on with her explorations. “Why don’t we work on it when we get home this afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me,” she sighs, nuzzling her head into his shoulder before laughing at Indy attempting to chase a bird that’s flittering between bushes

The three of them return back to their apartment twenty minutes later, Indy’s tired legs and the cool air winning out, in order to shower and get ready to drive to Hounslow for their St. Patrick’s Day activities. Emma’s stylists work on her hair and makeup while he gets ready, dressing in his Irish Guard uniform as he did for their wedding. He catches Emma looking at him in the mirror, and he throws her a wink, smiling while bobby pins are attached to her hair to keep her hat in place over her blonde curls.

This is one of his favorite events and though it’s technically Emma’s responsibility, he always joins her for this particular engagement. It’s likely because he gets to pal around and drink a Guinness with members of the Guard afterward, but he enjoys it all around. It’s relaxed and informal, despite the military aspect of it, and those are always his favorite things to do. State dinners and other diplomatic events are not usually enjoyable, but he understands he’s there for the country and his father, not himself. He can help better Britain even if he’s really there to smile and shake hands while telling a cheeky joke that would get him in loads of trouble if his father ever caught wind of it.

(He’s still eternally thankful Brennan has no idea about the joke he once made while slightly intoxicated about the size of his father’s ego having a negative effect on other parts of his anatomy. It’s not the 1600s, he has a good relationship with his dad, and he feels like he still might get beheaded for that one.)

Thomas drives them to Hounslow, and they get out of the car to go and greet the crowds outside, shaking hands and accepting gifts. Over the years he’s grown accustomed to accepting flowers and letters, the occasional handmade jar of jam after he was once pictured as a child with raspberry jam all over his face, but lately it’s been all baby gifts all of the time. They have quite the collection of baby shoes, which he doesn’t understand because infants don’t need them, but they are damn cute. And tiny, so tiny. How can a human’s feet be so small?

He’s obviously well prepared to be a father if he can’t get past the size of infant shoes.

Sure enough, he’s handed several booties and outfits, the colors ranging as everyone tries to guess if they’re having a boy or girl and bugging him as if he’s going to share the private news with everyone. He and Emma don’t even know yet. She’s not far along enough, though he has a sneaking (see: strong) suspicion they’re having a girl. Emma thinks they’re having a boy, and he’s choosing to think that he knows better.

He very rarely does.

“Thank you,” he tells everyone, handing some of the gifts, including a miniature version of his uniform, to their aides, “this is so sweet of you all. Emma and I give you all of our love.”

He finds Emma near the end of the line, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her closer while she fumbles with a few gifts too, stuffed bears and clothes along with a few flowers that are already causing some of her allergies to kick in.

“You ready to go inside, my love?”

“Yep,” he whispers in her ear as a camera flashes behind him, “we’ve got some Shamrock to hand out and beers to drink. Well, at least I get to do the second part.”

“Shut up,” Emma playfully whines, waving to people as they walk by, “you’re being rude reminding me of that.”

“Well, I do so enjoy pushing your buttons. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me later so you can taste the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you should be counting yourself at getting lucky today, no matter how many four leaf clovers you find.” She kisses his jaw before pinching his cheek, and he barks out a laugh while they walk inside to get situated for the parade and the rest of their duties.

He wakes to kisses up and down his arm, soft lips and softer skin pressing into him as the haze of sleep fades away and the darkness of their bedroom comes into view. He can barely see a thing, his eyes still adjusting to the lack of light, but he can feel the heat of Emma’s body pressing into his back and sending pinpricks of pleasure throughout his body.

“W – what time is it, love?”

“A little past two.”

She kisses the back of his neck, right at his hairline, and the pressure of her breasts and her stomach pressing against him while her foot is running up and down his calves is already too much when he hasn’t been awake for more than a minute.

“Emma, love,” he grumbles when she starts inching down his back, her tongue tracing his spine, “you’ve got to give a man a moment.”

She stops then, rolling off of him and onto her back, the mattress slightly bouncing under her weight, and he groans at the lack of heat between them now. He didn’t mean for her to stop completely, but she’s obviously taken it that way. So he scoots over and kisses up her shoulder and her neck, fast flickers of his lips until he’s slanting them over hers and hovering above her.

“Hey, why’d you stop?”

“You told me to give you a moment, figured you weren’t quite ready or in the mood or something.”

She shrugs, her mused hair moving up and down as her eyes blink and her lips tick up on one side. His hand finds her face, caressing her cheek, and he smiles softly when she smiles back up at him.

“First of all,” he begins, pressing a kiss against each of her eyelids, “I am nearly always in the mood to be with my knock-out of a wife, so don’t get it in that head of yours that I’m not.” He moves to kiss behind her ear then, gently nibbling on the lobe. “Secondly, all I needed was a moment. It’s been awhile since I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night when you’ve already kept me up late.”

She laughs under her breath, the smallest, sweetest sound, before twisting her head and kissing him, slow and sweet so that he feels it in every inch of his body.

“Yeah, well, you can blame your kid for that.”

“Yes, I’ll tell her right as she’s born that she’s made mummy and daddy’s sex life slow down before she’s even born. I’m sure she’ll totally get that.”

“First of all, we still don’t know, and you are being super stubborn with the girl thing. And second of all, since we’re making points, our sex life is fine. We literally had sex three hours ago.”

“I said she’s slowing it down, not ruining it.”

“Semantics.”

“Romantic.”

“What?” She laughs, her eyes crinkling up on the sides as her smile stretches across her face. “That’s in no way romantic.”

“Oi, I think it is. Don’t you think sex is romantic?”

“I mean, obviously.” She rolls her eyes before rolling onto her side and pulling the comforter up over her. “But not in this context no. What I was doing before we got into this discussion was romantic sex.”

“That wasn’t sex.”

“It was the preface to sex, which is sometimes the best part. I was doing naughty things to you.”

“Did you just use the word naughty instead of dirty? Darling, you are officially British. Next thing you know you’re going to speaking with an accent.”

“I have an accent,” she protests, scrunching up her nose. “It’s just not the same as everyone over here, which I think makes me unique in all of the best ways.”

He rolls back over on his stomach and hooks his arm over Emma so that she can rest her chin on his forearm while he rests his on his pillow next to her head. “So do you think the babe will sound more like you or me?”

“You.” “Why?” “Because they’re going to grow up around people who sound like you. That’s what influences the accents, not necessarily just the parents. Think about it. I have an American dad and a British mom, and I have an American accent because that’s where I grew up.”

“True,” he hums, moving his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Does that bother you at all?”

“Nah, not at all. It’s like the opposite of how it was in my house growing up. It’s kind of weird when you think about how similar it is.” She tilts her head and smirks at him. “Plus, your accent is damn sexy.”

“Really now?” he purrs, inching closer to her before crawling over her and propping himself up on his forearms and knees, making sure not to press his weight down on her stomach. “You think I’m sexy?”

“I think your accent is sexy,” she corrects, her lips ticking up on one side while her hands frame his cheeks, cool fingertips inching up into her hair and tugging him down so that he can feel the heat of her breath brushing over her lips. “Would you like to get back to where I was trying to go earlier or can I cross off doing naughty things to you?”

“Whatever the first thing was, most definitely.”

He wakes later that morning while Emma slumbers on her side of the bed, hair tangled and falling down her bare back from where the comforter shifted in her sleep. He quietly gets out of bed, attempting not to wake her or Indy who must have wandered into the room while they were sleeping, and makes his way into the bathroom, turning the water in the shower on to get ready for today.

He should have woken an hour ago, but the bed was too comfortable and his body too tired, so he rushes through his morning routine, using Emma’s blow dryer to fix his hair instead of letting it dry naturally. He slips into a suit, putting on a pair of his ever-growing collection of cufflinks, before spritzing on his cologne and grabbing his already packed suitcase out of the closet, letting the wheels trail along the hardwood until he’s back in the bedroom.

Stepping over to the bed, he scratches behind Indy’s ears, the dog opening one eye to look at him before cuddling back into bed as he sits down next to Emma.

“Love,” he whispers, pushing her hair off of her forehead until her eyes flutter open, the green hazy and sleep-ridden, “I’ve got to go.”

“Already?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, leaning down and kissing her forehead, “my flight is in two hours, and Mum likes to travel early.”

Emma yawns before sitting up, pulling the comforter over her and looking every bit like the girl he met nearly eight years ago with her crazy hair and pillow creased face and complete lack of care if she looks put together or not. “Okay,” she sighs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug, “but you two be safe. Call me when you land, when you come home, if anything interesting happens, if anything boring happens.”

“I know the long-distance drill, sweetheart.” He brushes his lips against hers then, feeling the softness that comes with Emma. “But it’s only two days. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Ugh, I know. Two days doesn’t give me nearly enough time to have my affair.”

“You’re a cheeky little minx, so I’m sure you could figure it out.”

“Damn right.” She kisses him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He reaches down and touches her stomach, her skin warm beneath his touch. “And you, little love.” Indy barks then, walking up the bed until she’s breathing in his face. “And you, Indy girl, even if you’re not supposed to be in this bed.”

He and his mother fly to Poland that morning for a dinner the British ambassador is hosting in honor of Liam and his birthday in a few weeks time. They were given short notice on the event, and since Liam couldn’t attend, Killian and Allison agreed to attend, knowing it would be no trouble for them. The morning flies by as all of these official visits do, in a flurry of handshakes and small talk, everyone attempting to fill his head with as much information as they can. It’s been awhile since he’s done an event with his mum, something he used to do when he was younger, but they fall into a natural rhythm. His mum is an expert at things like this, using her quick wit and kind smile to make everyone comfortable, and if there’s ever been anyone he’s tried to emulate, it would be her.

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Allison compliments as they walk into the dining hall, her hand wrapped around his elbow. “We should decorate one of the rooms at home more like this. It’s more modern.”

“Well then we’d have to get rid of the ancient furniture that no one is allowed to sit on.”

She chuckles next to him as he pulls her chair out for her and waits for her to sit down before taking his own seat next to her. “You and your brother get cheekier the older you get, I swear. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

“Well, you can’t take away our video game privileges now, mum.”

The dinner is indeed wonderful and full of Polish dishes and traditions celebrating Liam. He takes a video to send to his brother, making sure to capture the cake he knows Liam would be stuffing into his face and flipping the camera around to show the smirk on his face that he got to eat it.

Should have shown up to his own pre-birthday event.

Later that night he and his mum are driven back to their hotel, and while they have separate suites, she joins him for a cup of tea, settling down into the living room with the television playing the local news. His phone buzzes just as a segment on their visit begins, and he’s thankful for the excuse to mute the sound.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets Emma, his lips stretching into a smile as he props his feet up on the coffee table, his socks practically falling off next to his glass, “did you miss me today?”

“Obviously. However could I survive twelve hours without you?”

Her voice is dripping with disdain, and he chuckles to himself as he imagines the roll of her eyes and the absolute disinterest she has when he’s being cocky. “You could at least act a little sad.”

“I can cry if you want me to, if that would make you feel better and boost your already inflated ego.”

“So you’re just as cheeky as you were this morning then. What’d you do today, love?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she sighs, the happiness seeping through the phone speaker. “I got dressed in pajamas, took Indy out, and then we settled down in the darkness of the bedroom and watched Gilmore Girls just to relive all of that nostalgia.”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure Indy has a lot of nostalgia about Stars Hollow.”

“Of course she does,” Emma laughs, and he can hear the theme song playing in the background. “Ruby came over for a few hours with food from the restaurant. I may save some leftovers for you.”

“Yeah, I already know that won’t be happening.”

“Hey, I don’t eat that much! I haven’t even gained any more than regular pregnancy weight.”

“Love, you and the Gilmore Girls all have amazing metabolisms. I’ve gained more pregnancy weight than you simply because our walks aren’t quite the same as our runs.”

“I can still run, you know? Dr. Hudson said so as long as it’s just a jog and not too much.”

“I know. We’ll have to do that when I get home. Mum and I ate a lot of cake tonight.”

Emma hums, sighing into the phone. “I’m jealous. Tell Allison I said hi when you see her in the morning.” “She’s sitting with me in the room right now actually, so if you were going to talk bad about her, now probably wouldn’t be the time.”

“Damn. That’s obviously what I was about to do.”

He and Emma chat for a few more minutes, but he knows he has to let her go so as not to be rude to his mother. She’s been fiddling with her phone and watching the muted television, so he’s sure she’s regretting coming over only to be usurped by a phone call.

“Hey, darling, I’ve got to let you go, okay?”

“Okay, is everything alright?”

“Everything is perfect. I’ve just been boring Mum making her listen to our conversation. I love you. I hope you, Indy, and little love have a good time binging the rest of Gilmore Girls and eating all of my food.” “We will,” she promises. “I love you, too. Bye, babe.”

He hangs up the phone, smiling at the picture of he and Emma that pops up afterward, before shutting it down and placing it on the arm of his chair. He looks up at his mother then who is softly smiling at him as if she really was listening to his conversation.

“What?” he laughs, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“Nothing,” she smiles, pulling her legs up underneath her and curling into the chair, “I was just thinking about how happy you are.”

His lips twitch, and he swallows the small lump of emotion in his throat. “Well, I am happy, Mum. I’m nearly always happy.”

“I know, I know,” she waves him away, tucking her long hair behind her ears, “but you’ve just been through so much and sometimes I look at you and wonder how I got so lucky that you’re my baby. And now you’re having a baby, and I’m emotional about it all of the time.”

“Mum,” he softly laughs, getting up from his seat to cross the room and crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m simply a crazy old woman.”

“Well, we all know that’s not true,” he promises, guessing that it’s not the time to be making jokes. “You’re bloody brilliant and completely and totally young.”

“Thank you, Killian. It was just that I was watching how natural you are with Emma, how good you’ll both be as parents. And I guess sometimes I feel so much regret over not getting to see you both together for all of those years. You were so cheated.”

“Hey,” he soothes, running his thumb over her knuckles and ignoring the ache in his thighs from the squat, “it’s all okay. I know that a lot of it was bloody awful, but if I’m honest, I liked having those years with Emma. We got to fall in love in peace, and as wonderful as it would be for you to have gotten to know her sooner, we can’t change that. So let’s be happy, yeah?”

“I know, darling. I’m sorry, but being a mum and a grandmother, all you want is for your kids to be happy. And you feel a bit accomplished when you realize they are. You’ll understand that soon enough.”

“Well, once we get over the terror and get used to having a person’s entire life depend on us, yeah, sure, I’ll focus on the happiness.”

His mum releases his hand to stroke his forehead, pushing the hair back. “You two are going to be wonderful, and your baby is going to be the most beautiful little thing.” “Can you say that again for me to send to Liam and Abigail? I’d like to have it on record for bragging rights for the rest of eternity.”

His mother winks at him, smiling before leaning back in her chair and asking him what movie he wants to watch. It’s been a long time since he simply spent time with his mum with no one else, so he savors it, laughing with her and talking about anything she wants until she decides to go to bed in her room next door.

The following day is full of engagements, but the two of them manage to slip away to dinner and sightseeing that evening, covering themselves in the cool early April weather and hiding away from anyone who may recognize them so they can have a normal night. Overseas visits, even with all of their setbacks and frustrations, are some of his favorite things to do if only because he can sometimes slip away and be himself in a place where fewer people know him.

Of course, he managed to slip around London for a few years as well, but he’s decided that was some kind of bloody miracle.

Early Wednesday morning they board their flight and make their way home, the four-hour plane ride seemingly stretching on for double the time until they touch down on land again and he and his mother separate into their different vehicles to make their ways back to Kensington and Buckingham, respectively.

Walking in the front door, he knows Emma won’t be home as she’s at the opening of a youth theater, so he takes the opportunity to let Indy in from their garden, indulging her in her excitement over him being home, her tail wagging so furiously she could create a windstorm. After she’s calmed, he settles down into the living room and pulls up his laptop, answering emails and organizing his schedule all while watching the shows he missed.

Multi-tasking in the best way possible, really.

It’s hours later when he hears the front door open before closing and clicking into place as heels click on their hardwood floor, the sounds getting louder the nearer she gets.

“Hi,” Emma sighs when she walks into the living room, immediately walking toward him and straddling his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs, while she presses a lingering kiss to his jaw and scrapes her fingers through his hair, “I’m so, so, so glad you’re home.”

“Hmm, me too,” he smiles before slanting his lips over hers once, twice, three times. “As much fun as I had with my mother honoring my brother, I quite prefer your company. And I was promised leftovers.”

Emma laughs against his lips as the heat of her breath washes over him and he settles into contentment. “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but those did not last.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to figure out a different way to welcome me home.”

She smirks before burying her face in his neck, her words spoken against his skin. “A foot rub would be fantastic, thanks. Those heels are a killer.”

Without his permission, not that it has ever been that way before, the first few weeks of April pass in the blink of an eye. He wants his life to slow down, for moments to pass like waves crashing into the shore, continuous and only quickly during a storm, but that’s simply not how things work.

Of course, there are times when he’d like life to speed up the slightest bit, and right now is one of those times.

He’s been sitting on the bed thumbing through his phone for twenty-seven minutes now, half of it spent reading an article about hair loss genes being passed down simply because that’s what was at the top of the page, but he’s gotten a bit bored. There’s also the fact that they’re going to be late for Emma’s doctor’s appointment if she doesn’t hurry up. She always takes longer than him to get ready, but it’s never like this, especially when they’re just hopping over to the doctor’s office and then coming back home to get ready for Liam’s birthday party tonight.

Sighing, he rolls over on the bed until he’s standing, pulling his jeans up so that they rest on his hips, and walks into the bathroom to find it empty of Emma but with clothes strewn across the floor. He tentatively steps over them, keeping himself from picking them up and throwing them in the basket, and makes his way into the closet where Emma is stretched out on the floor with her arms over her face and her jeans on but unbuttoned and unzipped.

Bloody hell, it’s a mess in here.

“Hey,” he tentatively begins, kicking at her bare feet with the tip of his boot so that she uncovers one of her eyes, “what’s happening here?”

“My jeans don’t fit. Not a single pair of them except for the ones that have yellow paint on the ass because mom decided she wanted to have a sunny yellow living room.”

“And this is surprising to you because?”

“Because last week my jeans fit, and this week they don’t. That is some kind of fucked up thing.”

“I believe that’s called pregnancy.”

Her eyes slant and every bit of joy that was remaining on her face disappears while she stares up at him like she’s five seconds away from murdering him. “I will stab you with the first earring I find if you don’t wipe that smug smirk off your face.”

He chuckles under his breath, knowing that she’ll likely do it, before squatting down and lying on the floor next to her, emulating her position. The hardwood hurts his back, but he imagines they won’t be here for long. If they are, he’ll just have to suck it up until this all important jeans situation is resolved.

“So your jeans won’t fit, love?”

“Nope. And I don’t really think I’ve gotten that much bigger. I still just kind of look like I ate too big of a meal when I’m wearing clothes. I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. Obviously, I can just do the hairband trick until I buy new jeans, but I love wearing the damn things. They make me feel normal.”

“What? Wearing heels and a dress that perfectly matches your coat with a hat that was specifically dyed to match that coat and dress doesn’t make you feel normal? I never would have guessed.”

She snorts beside him while her hand finds his, and she wraps her fingers around his palm before pulling it up and brushing a kiss against his skin. “Surprisingly, no, that does not make me feel normal. That makes me feel like a barbie doll.”

“You’re not a barbie doll, love.”

She sighs next to him, but it’s really more of a huff. She’s frustrated, that much he knows, and a part of him is pretty sure that it’s not only because her jeans don’t fit. So he squeezes her hand, silently encouraging her to share her thoughts as he so often does with a touch or a glance.

“That’s just how I feel sometimes, you know? And I know that’s not how it is with you and me. But to the world it’s like I’m this girl who plays dress up and is a wife and an expectant mother and nothing else, which is fine if that’s what you want. And babe, I love that. I love being married to you and having a baby with you who I am so in love with it’s basically an obsession, but if I have to answer one more question about if I think you’re going to change a diaper or wake up in the middle of the night if the baby’s crying, which is literally what a parent does, while you stand next to me and answer a question about global relations, I’m going to lose my damn mind.”

“I know,” he mumbles, the weight and unfairness of her words settling into him. “I’m sorry that you’re so frustrated, and I’m sorry that some people are stuck in an old-timey world view.” He releases her hand and twists on the ground, propping his head up in his hand while looking Emma in the eye. “Why don’t you take up a patronage or two dealing with women’s rights or something similar? I know everyone was on the fence of that because they thought it was too political, but fuck that, Emma. If that’s something you want to do, you sure as hell should do it. It’s not political. It’s human, and you would be an incredible ambassador. You should do things that make you happy.”

Her eyes light up, lips twitching into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. The fact that we don’t have any specifically for that is bullocks when we support nearly everything. You could help so many people, and I think you’d be a bloody rockstar at it.”

“I know I would.”

“That’s the spirit,” he encourages, leaning over and brushing a kiss against her lips, letting it go a little further than either of them should when they have to be somewhere soon. “But right now we’ve got to go see if I’m going to win our bet because we’ll finally see that our little love is a girl.”

“You keep thinking that. Also, there was no bet, and if there was, I never lose.”

“Oh shit, that’s cold,” Emma gasps as Dr. Hudson applies gel to her bared stomach, her bump only sticking up the slightest bit while she wears her jeans buttoned together with a hairband, the determined lass. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.”

“Most people never do,” Dr. Hudson assures them. “So all of your tests look good, everything in normal levels. Are we having any dizzy spells?”

“No,” Emma answers, her eyes focused on the screen that’ll show the baby in a few seconds, “I haven’t. And my diet and eating times are so regularly scheduled and planned thanks to the obsessed man next to me, so I’ve been feeling really good.”

Her hand finds his so much like earlier, and he clasps it between both of his hands before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “She’s been doing well, not a lot of symptoms.”

“Well, she’s in that wonderful sweet spot of the pregnancy. It usually only gets worse from here.”

“That’s not very encouraging.”

Dr. Hudson laughs before focusing all of her attention back on the ultrasound, the baby’s heartbeat suddenly sounding throughout the room. God, the first time he heard it, the rhythmic beat so much calmer than his own, he nearly cried. Okay, so he might have cried, a few tears slipping from his eyes. Emma didn’t even cry until later when she came home with the picture and fell apart saying she couldn’t see the baby and felt like Rachel from Friends.

But he’s grown accustomed to the sound of their child’s heartbeat now, and as the picture pops up on the screen, she’s as clear as can be.

“So we’re looking really healthy, heartbeat is good, growth is good. And you’re eighteen weeks now, so while sometimes I can’t tell, I can tell you the gender today, if that’s what you want?”

He looks down at Emma to find her already looking up at him, a smile gracing her lips as she nods in confirmation. “We want to know.”

“Alright,” Dr. Hudson smiles, looking at the monitor one last time, “you two are the lucky parents to a boy.”

A boy.

He’s going to have a son.

Holy shit, Emma’s never going to let him live this down, but he doesn’t care at this point. They’re having a boy.

“I told you so,” Emma chuckles, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “I am never letting you live this one down.”

“I know.” He dips his head down to brush his lips against hers, squeezing her hand as tightly as possible as this begins to sink in even more. “Maybe I’ll get the next one right.”

“One human coming into the world out of my vagina at a time please.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“Just being honest,” she laughs, the sound as beautiful as the heartbeat still playing on the monitor. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And the little lad.”

“Yeah, and the little lad.”

He and Emma walk across the gardens to Liam and Abigail’s apartment, Emma’s heels clicking against the cobblestone. He already knows that she’ll be wearing his shoes on the short walk home, but she’d insisted she wear the heels for the portrait they’re taking to commemorate Liam’s fortieth birthday. It’s apparently a major milestone in life, deserving of an official portrait, and as much as he loves his brother, he thinks Liam’s a tad bit over the top.

But he and Liam differ in a lot of ways, Liam’s penchant for large celebrations and dinners with several courses while in evening wear one of those things. They were both raised this way, to expect and want dinners and parties like this, and maybe once upon a time had he never met Emma, that’s how he would celebrate all of his birthdays.

His wife, God bless her, is a fan of the simple things in life. She likes eating takeout on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs which are likely clothed in leggings that have a hole on the inside of her thigh. She enjoys sitting around watching television in the darkness of their bedroom for hours on end, sometimes an entire day (or two), and if she could, she’d probably spend the rest of her time in the garden throwing a ball for Indy to chase. For his birthday, all they did was a small dinner with friends and family, and it was perfect. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

But he doesn’t mind the party Liam and Abigail are having. Everyone can enjoy what they want, and this day isn’t about him. It’s about his brother.

He and Emma step up to their front door, the towering black wood with moss looming above them, and he’s just about to knock on the door when Emma stops him with a hand on his forearm.

“What?” he laughs, turning to face her, their height difference almost gone with her heels.

“You have to be careful with how you talk about the baby. We’re keeping the sex a secret, remember?”

“Darling, I think they know we had sex. That’s not a secret.”

Her face scrunches up, and he leans down to brush a kiss against her lips before leaving a trail of kisses across her face, making her laugh under her breath.

“You’re going to make dad jokes. I already know.”

“I’ve been preparing for it with my humor for my entire life.” He grins, kissing her again simply because he can. “But I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, and I won’t mention our joyful news. As far as anyone in there knows, we know nothing.”

“That’s right Jon Snow.”

“Hey,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her into his side before knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell, “he lived in the series, so that’s totally not an insult.”

The door opens before Emma can say anything else, Liam appearing on the other side of the door in his suit. “Hey guys,” he greets, a bright smile on his face as he takes a step back, “why don’t you come on in?”

“So nice of you to invite us into your home when we were supposed to be here,” he snarks, knowing it’ll rile Liam.

“Well, I was going to say I’m glad to see you, but I’m apparently only glad to see Emma. Hello, love,” he smiles before leaning into kiss Emma on the cheek and wrap her in a hug. “How are you today?”

“Good, great really. Happy birthday, old man.”

Liam barks out a laugh before releasing Emma, clapping her on the shoulder and throwing her a wink. “Has Killian been calling me older brother, emphasis on the older, all day?”

“Surprisingly not, but that’s just because he calls you an old wanker all of the time anyways.”

“No bit of that surprises me.”

Liam embraces him then, wrapping his arms around Killian’s shoulders as Killian does the same. “Happy birthday, olderbrother. What’d you buy for your midlife crisis?”

“Saving the sportscar for the fiftieth birthday. I’m not old yet, thank you very much.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Emma laughs, walking past the both of them and down the hall where he spies Alexander and Elizabeth running between the archways.

“Are we?” Liam questions, patting him in the back before following Emma. “I don’t think anyone has ever described us that way.”

“There’s a first for everything.”

The two of them find everyone in the dining room, roaming throughout the table and the bar that’s set up through the next room. Emma’s animatedly chatting with Abigail, her hands moving all over the place while Lizzie tugs at her dress until Emma picks her up and rests her on her hip. There’s several of Liam’s old military friends as well as a few of he and Abigail’s friends who he recognizes from events over the years. Their home is packed, chatter filling his ears while he goes around greeting everyone before stopping at the bar and ordering a glass of rum.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in solidarity with your wife?”

He turns to the side and smiles down at Abigail, kissing her temple after he finishes his sip. “Hello, darling. Did Emma send you over here to tell me that?”

“No, but I remember being pregnant and my husband’s lips tasting like whiskey after a party.”

He chuckles under his breath, finding Emma talking to his parents before turning back to look at Abigail. “The only problem with that statement is that Liam drinks whiskey instead of rum. Bloody awful drink. And I’ve cut back on the coffee and tea in solidarity, thank you very much.”

“Oh well look at you Mr. Big Shot,” she jokes, squeezing his bicep. “You’re just so kind.”

“Someone is awfully sassy today, love. Is it because you’ve realized you’re married to an old man and are compensating?”

“Exactly. I’m trying to cope with his ancient age.” “That’s what I thought. I’m going to go kiss Emma so she tastes the rum since I’m just that evil.”

Abigail snorts next to him, and he leaves her with a smile before making his way to Emma and kissing her before she gets a chance to say anything. He lets his tongue flicker out so she can taste the rum, his own little private joke, but he doesn’t think she minds from the way she hums into it. His parents probably mind from the way they cough next to him, but they can wait.

“Hi,” Emma whispers when he pulls back, “did you forget we’ve got company, tiger?”

“No. I just didn’t bloody care.”

His parents laugh behind him, and he turns to greet them then, hugging his parents and asking them how they’re doing before they get called off to chat. Liam really should have held this dinner somewhere other than his home for how many people are in here, and Emma asks him to go sit in the other room, quiet surrounding them until Alex runs in and practically jumps on Emma’s stomach with all the force of his bony limbs.

“Mummy told me that you have a baby in your belly, Emmy.”

“Well, your Mummy is a smart lady because I do have a baby in my belly.”

“Wow,” Alex gasps, his eyes lighting up as he puts his hands on Emma’s stomach before looking up at her and speaking in the cutest little voice with his broken words that are constantly getting better. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know yet,” Emma lies, and Killian chuckles next to her, rubbing up and down her back. “That’s going to be a surprise.”

Alex huffs and crosses his arms, obviously cross at them for not letting him know if his cousin is going to be a boy or a girl. It’s likely a good thing he wasn’t old enough to understand this all when Abigail was pregnant with Lizzie because he would have been up in arms about all of the surprises and secrets. “What’s its name?”

“We don’t know that either, buddy,” he answers to try to take some of Alex’s blame off of Emma. 

“I think you should name it Fish.”

Emma snickers next to him, biting her bottom lip to try to contain it. It’s then that he gets an idea, sticking out his stomach as far as he can and making himself look bloated. “What about me, buddy? Does Uncle Killian look like he’s having a baby?”

“Uncle Killian looks like a silly goose,” Abigail coos as she steps in the room, squatting down next to Alex, “and you look like someone who needs to go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to. It’s bedtime.”

Alex’s bottom lip starts quivering while his eyes begin to water, the meltdown imminent. Within seconds Abigail has him on her hip walking out of the ballroom and meeting Liam and Elizabeth by the doorway, the two of them walking away to put their kids to bed like some kind of well-oiled machine.

“You know, Abigail isn’t even my mother, and if she told me it was time to go to bed, I’d listen.”

Emma giggles beside him, leaning back into the couch and into him before resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her hair while he rubs her back, knowing she’s likely tired when they’ll still be here for awhile, but it’s only a short walk home if she asks for it.

“You are a very smart man because you listen to all of the women in your life.”

“Damn right. Even Lizzie. She’s two, but she’s the boss.”

“Who’s the boss?” Brennan asks them, settling down on the couch across the coffee table from them. “Because the answer better be your mother or Emma. If not, you are lying, son.”

“Lizzie,” Emma answers for him, patting his stomach before her hand rests on his thigh, squeezing a little too high as if she’s trying to rouse him. “Lizzie is the boss.”

“Damn right,” Brennan laughs, echoing Killian’s words from a moment ago even if he didn’t hear them. “I’ve never seen a kid with such spunk.”

“Oi, I had that kind of spunk, dad. Still do.”

“Yeah, but you’re old now. I don’t remember these things.”

“Your firstborn is forty! I’m still barely in my thirties! How can you call me old? You’re the oldest person at this party.”

“And the most handsome,” Allison adds in, sitting down next to Brennan and brushing a kiss against his cheek. His parents were never affectionate before, and as happy as he is with everyone’s changes, his fifteen-year-old self is cringing watching them be that way. But it’s only in the best way, his family having felt like a family for two years now, and no part of him would trade things to go back to how they were.

Eventually dinner is served and everyone sits down at the large table, silverware clicking against plates and the laughter and chatter in the home only increasing the more people drink (except for he and Emma of course because he does abstain in solidarity sometimes). There’s several stories about Liam told, some he’d never heard before, and his stomach hurts from laughter. God, his brother was such a crack up, something he never really knew, and he wishes they’d gotten along all of those years.

But they didn’t. There was too much of an age discrepancy, too much of a difference in wants out of life, and most of all, too much hostility. He loves his brother, something that took him a long time to admit, but Liam’s not perfect. He can still be a bloody git and they still argue over some things, but he’s changed. And while there are still flashes of the day he came to this very home to confront his brother, to try to work things through only to be rejected and told that Liam’s only trying to do better for his children, he’s come to terms with it. They can’t change the past. They can’t take things away or add words left unsaid, but forgiveness even when the other person doesn’t deserve it is a powerful thing.

Or so he’s been learning over the past few years.

This is infinitely better than any life he could have lived away from his parents and his brother. And he’d have given it all up for Emma. There’s no doubt about it, and he still fully believes that. She’s worth it all. But this is better.

“Hey,” Emma whispers, rubbing between his shoulder blades before her hand finds the hair at the tape of his neck, causing shivers to run down his spine, “what are you thinking about? You’ve zoned out.”

He hums, closing his eyes before leaning over and kissing her temple, the vanilla of her shampoo invading him. “I was thinking about you.”

“Cheesy.” “Absolutely. But also the truth. I just…all of these stories about Liam, they make me realize how glad I am that we went through all of that to fix it and came out better on the other side because now I have stories to tell about him like that.” “I thought you were thinking about me.”

“Well, that came after thinking about my brother.” “That’s kind of gross.”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking about how I’m glad we’re here, but I’d still give it all up for you. And for the little love, my love.” “Well,” Emma smiles, tangling their fingers together under the table, “the good thing is that you don’t have to. We’re all a big, messy, wonderful package that you get for the rest of your life whether you like it or not.”

[crowkingwrites]

Battle of the Bands (Ch.2)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2844

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948154/chapters/35065244

Waking up the next morning was less of a struggle when you saw a text from Robb just saying ‘good morning’ and that he was looking forward to the Battle of the Bands festival today. The weather woman on your tv went on about how warm it would be today, and she was also excited for the Battle of the Bands.

For once the weather woman was right. You stuck your hand out a window letting it catch the sun’s warmth. It was going to be a lovely day. You slipped on shorts, a cut-up band t-shirt, and sneakers. It would suffice for spending all day at a music festival.

You almost took your car keys when you remembered that you had a city bus pass. What better way to start your article than to see other people get excited for the event itself? You left your car keys at home, and headed straight for the bus stop. Families with kids in AC/DC t-shirts and girls with flower crowns made you smile. The bus was filled with people all going to the city festival. You turned to see a young boy adjusting his baseball cap. You looked towards his parents who were occupied with his little sister, but you caught the mother’s eye.

“Hi! Sorry to bother you,” you glanced back at her son. “I’m a writer for The Scene. I was wondering if I could ask your son some questions about Battle of the Bands?”

The mother smiled and nodded. “Of course! Dominic, she would like to ask you some questions.” The mother put her son in front of you. Dominic sat down in a bus seat, and you kneeled in front of him, balancing on your feet as the bus moved forward.

“Hi Dominic, are you excited for today?” you asked the child. He nodded, keeping his eyes on you.

“Tell her who we’re going to see,” the mother nudged him. The little boy smiled and shied away from you.

“Ah, come on, you can tell me,” you said, smiling. Dominic looked down, still smiling.

“Blackfyre,” he said, in an almost whisper. “I like them a lot.”

“His father is a fan of theirs. He played Blackfyre in front of Dominic so much that Dominic started to love them,” she told you. You wrote down quick notes for yourself. The mother went on. “I even caught him shredding the guitar to one of their songs.”

“Oh really? Do you wanna be a rockstar when you grow up?”

“Yeah!” Dominic shouted with excitement. His hands raised up in the air as if he was on a roller coaster. You stood up from your spot as the bus slowed down.

“Thank you so much. I got what I need,” you nodded to the mother once more before you hopped off the bus. You put away your notebook and continued down the downtown street. First, Margie. Then Battle. This was going to be a busy first day.

Margaery finished off her second mimosa of the day and knocked on the bar. “Another!”

“I’ll cut you off if you don’t slow down!” Loras immediately called out to her. Margie rolled her eyes and put her focus back on you.

“Blackfyre huh?” she recalled. “That’s Viserys Targaryen’s band. He’s really good.”

“Yeah? Think he may win the battle?” you scooped up a breakfast taco filled with eggs and sausage. “He actually might,” Margie nodded seriously. “His band reminds a lot of the adults of their classic rock days, but he has a reach on their younger teens. He’s a good looking guy with a lot of talent.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” you said, taking another bite. “What the fuck is in these tacos? They’re like crack.”

“I know,” Margie said, eyes wide on her own breakfast. She looked towards her brother and then back to you. “Do you want to do me a favor?”

“What kind of favor?” you asked, knowing fully well this meant trouble for you.

Margie shot a look towards her brother. “It’s about Renly.”

“What? You want me to spy on him? Like we used to do on the internet?” you chuckled. Margie almost spat out her drink. Remembering your long distance internet days brought back joyful memories of you searching and stalking Margie’s love interests. You dug so hard into one of their social media profile’s that you found their SAT score. Margie was so impressed that she almost hired you to do more private investigative work.

“Yes, but no,” Margie beckoned for you to come closer, obviously not wanting her brother to hear. “Loras really needs this. He’s been lonely and depressed. Maybe encourage Renly to hang with Loras sometime? I don’t know. I don’t want to push him into a relationship, but he needs something. Someone. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll see Renly today. Along with Robb.”

“The cute boss?” Margie gushed. “You’re gonna flirt with him, right?”

“What if he has a girlfriend?”

“What if he doesn’t?” Margie winked. “Flirt with him and then tell me about it.” It wouldn’t matter what you argued with Margaery, you wanted to flirt with him anyways. Once you stepped into the festival, you were grateful for your heat-friendly outfit.

The festival had several booths up front. Some where you could play games to win small prizes, others were advertising their local businesses. You recognized a young man standing in line at a booth to the side. You squinted to see his slender form, sunglasses, and his hands in his pockets while talking to another person beside him.

“Renly? Renly Baratheon?” you called out. The young man turned around to see you. He smiled and beckoned for you to come over.

“Hi! I’ve seen you in the office. Heard you got my assignment, yeah?” Renly smiled. He extended his hand out for you to shake. You gladly took it.

“I did, yes.” You looked beside Renly and recognized his conversation partner. “Hi, Robb.”

“Hey! You made it. Welcome to Battle of the Bands,” Robb looked ahead of the line. “I was trying to get everyone’s press badges, but it seems they’re really short staffed this year.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you commented seeing the long line ahead of you. “Why do you think that is?”

Robb frowned and scratched the back of his neck. He shared one look with Renly and turned to you. “There was an incident last year. Someone on staff was harassed and it made news. People have been hesitant to join festival staff and press after that. I’m honestly lucky to have you here.”

Robb gave you a grateful smile and you returned it right back to him.

“I’m glad you gave me this opportunity,” you returned the compliment. The line moved forward much more, but you continued the conversation. “So, I hear you’re playing in the Battle this year.”

“I am,” Renly started off. “Stag Knight is ready to go.”

“Stag Knight?”

“A play off my family’s tradition and name.” Renly wore a confident smile on his face. “It’s a nod to my ancestors who were excellent hunters, but I don’t believe in hurting animals myself.”

“You’re a vegetarian?” you smiled, thinking ahead two steps. Renly nodded, patting his sack.

“I’ve got loads of my snacks in here today. If you need any water, come stop by, we’ll have lots,” Renly said.

“Well, I know I’m new to the city, but there’s this great taco place that serves amazing vegetarian friendly tacos—

“Sunspot!” Renly cut you off. “I love that place!”

“I happen to know one of the bartenders there,” you added. “Loras is so much fun.”

“Loras?” Renly thought. “The cute guy with curls? He always seemed so shy to me.” You held in your excitement at his comment and continued.

“He’s really not. He’s so much fun. We should all hang out sometime!” There it was, your move. Renly nodded and turned to Robb.

“That sounds like fun! We should.” Bingo. Margie had always commended you on how you played your social chess. Sometimes, she would claim you were better than her. You weren’t sure of that, but you knew you were going to get credit for this somehow.

Once you got your press badge, Renly parted ways with you and Robb. He trotted off quickly to rehearse before going on stage later that day. Robb put his badge over his head and looked at the schedule.

“So, who do we go to first?”

“Well,” you pulled out your notes. “I interviewed a little boy on the bus who was excited to see Blackfyre.”

“Ah, Viserys,” Robb chuckled. “Arrogant cock.” You took a step back.

“A what?”

“He’s…not terribly nice,” Robb walked with you through the festival. You heard alternative rock from one side of you. A crowd of people held their phones up to record. “He’s had a taste of success already. He’s talented, but it’s gone to his head. Maybe it’s best to stay away from him for now.”

“Oh okay,” you looked down, feeling dejected. Robb patted your back.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to follow this lead or that I don’t trust you,” Robb smiled. “I just don’t want you to go interview him and come back in tears.”

“He’s that bad?” you responded.

Robb shrugged. “Some say he is, some say differently. I just want to be cautious. I don’t want to lose a good writer on the first day.” You smiled, feeling the warmth of the compliment.

Robb pointed to a pub on the corner of the street, a bit away from the festival. Both of you crossed the street and entered inside the Irish-themed pub. Inside, there was no leprechauns or four-leaf clovers. Instead, there was old pictures of Ireland, showcasing ancestors and family trees. The Ireland flag hung proudly. You feel the cool air of the air conditioning, and you silently thanked Robb for saving you from the heat.

People spoke silently while they drank their pints. Other listened intently to the musician on the small stage. A guitar played a slow beat beautifully. Your eyes wandered to the artist. He wore boots and jeans. His flannel shirt was open to reveal his white tank underneath. It fit him tight. A shadow of a beard looked good on his face. His curls were much darker than Robb’s. Then the idea clicked.

“This is my half-brother, Jon,” Robb whispered. “I thought he would be a great first interview for you. And vice versa.” You inched forward and found a seat near the stage. Jon’s voice was a low and slow harmony. You listened intently to the lyrics.

“I’m a cowboy on a steel horse I ride I’m wanted, dead or alive.”

“Bon Jovi,” you smiled, nodding along. “I’ve never heard him like this before.”

“Jon’s good for that,” Robb smiled proudly. “He has the talent I wish I had. He doesn’t do big audiences. He likes it small like this.” Jon kept singing. His voice belted out the last few lyrics. Once he finished, the crowd in the pub applauded loudly for him. A few stood up and gave him whoops of joy. Jon smiled and nodded ‘thank yous’ to where he could until his eyes fell to you.

You watched his heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t hide your own blush rushing to your cheeks. Jon was adorable, and you hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. You wanted to slap yourself in the face. If Robb was attractive, of course his brother would be just as attractive. Duh. Jon walked down from the stage and walked towards your table with Robb.

“Good job!” Robb embraced Jon. He patted him on the back and then turned to you. “This is Y/N. She’s taking over for Renly this year.” Jon sheepishly smiled at you.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nodded.

“I’ll grab some drinks, yeah?” Robb offered. “Pints?” When both of you nodded, Robb took off to the bar while you and Jon sat down.

“So, are you going to interview me?” Jon said. He bit his lower lip.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask hard questions,” you wanted to reach out to his hand and touch him to reassure him. He seemed so scared of you. “Robb told me how talented you are, and I agree with him. Why aren’t you playing out there with the rest of the bands?”

“I don’t like big crowds.” Jon took another look outside. “And it’s hot out there.” You laughed once at his joke and quickly wrote it down.

“You’re funny, but you sing really serious music.”

“I prefer classic rock,” Jon told you. “I write my own music and preform that sometimes, but I want to be taken seriously.”

“You write your own music?”

“I do,” Jon’s hand massaged the back of his neck. “I don’t perform it that much. I don’t think it’s that good.”

“I heard you up there. I think you’re great!” You smiled at him. Jon seemed to be a gentle soul. You watched his smile grow on his face. A pint was placed in front of you. Robb sat down between you both.

“How’s it going?” Robb asked.

“You were right,” Jon spoke before you. “She’s really nice.” You sighed and looked at Robb. “You told him about me?”

“I did,” Robb shrugged. “I told him that a pretty nice girl was going to interview him today and he agreed to it.” Jon shook his head.

“No, you said that a very pretty and a very nice girl was going to interview me,” Jon corrected. Your eyes immediately watched Robb for his reaction. His eyes narrowed at his brother, but then softened towards you.

“You think I’m pretty?” you smugly smiled. Robb cleared his throat.

“Just interview him and you,” Robb pointed at Jon. “Don’t be stupid.” Without as much as a goodbye, Robb left the pub, leaving you and Jon alone.

“He thinks I’m pretty?” you asked Jon. Both of you started to laugh. Jon stopped laughing first and looked at you.

“He was right though. You are pretty. And nice. You are very nice,” Jon almost stumbled over his words. You couldn’t help but smile at him. The interview continued. You asked Jon more questions about him, his music, and who he would like to see win.

“Renly and Stag Knight,” Jon answered.

“Not yourself?” you asked, keeping the back of the pen near your mouth. Jon shook his head.

“No, I think Renly and his friends deserve it more. I just like doing music. I don’t need to win anything.” You felt your heart swell. Jon was so selfless that you wanted him to do nothing but hand puppies to other people. Because of course that’s a career that selfless people should do. Hand puppies to people and make them happy.

“Thank you, Jon.” You closed your notebook. “I got everything I need.”

“Good.” Jon watched you stand up from your spot and began speaking again. “Robb told me you’re new to town.”

“I am, yeah,” you nodded.

“Do you wanna stick around? Maybe have another pint? Couldn’t hurt to make more friends?” Jon’s fingers played with the pint glass in his hand. His smile was more genuine than any smile you’d ever seen. You glanced at your phone and sighed.

“I really wish I could, but I am on assignment. I need to write up this interview for the website,” you frowned at him. You wish you could spend more time with Jon. After interviewing him, you realized how much he loved music and only wanted to play it for people to listen, not to be popular.

“It’s alright. I understand. Working for my brother can be hard sometimes,” Jon led you to the door. “Just let me know if he’s a hardass on you, ok?”

You nodded. Before you could officially say goodbye to him, Jon unlocked his parked car on the curb.

“You’re gonna give me a ride?” you asked. “You just met me.”

“I know,” Jon continued. “My mother, well, Cat’s not really my mom, but she taught me to be polite always. Now, you could walk back to your office, or you can jump in here, avoid the heat, and get to your office faster.” The choice was obvious. You jumped in Jon’s car and he drove you a mere ten minutes back to the headquarters.

Once you sat at your desk and had your notes open, you realized you never left your number with Jon. He had been so kind to you and so genuine. You groaned loudly as your hands melted into your face. How could you be so stupid?

You sighed once more and started typing the article for The Scene website. There was one thing you could do for Jon. You could make him known and give him the recognition he really deserved. Halfway through the article you wrote another memo for yourself.

Give your damn number to guys who call you pretty and mean it.

Taglist:  @angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen @sleepylunarwolf@trashpandabarnes @loki-0fasgard @boltonblade  @affabletimelady

[everly-kindred]

Everly’s Diary - Entry #7

Synopsis: Everly learns about St. Patrick's Day, and celebrates Ostara & the Full Moon!

Words: 1,232

Date: 20th of March, 2026

Dear Diary,

I know I haven’t written in you in a while, and I’m sorry about that. The days here have been all relatively the same. Relaxing, reading, taking my English and maths lessons. I haven’t had any remarkable dreams in awhile - they’ve all been the same nonsense. I’ve also been neglecting to do any tarots beyond a one card reading a day, which I admit I feel sad about. However, this past Sunday was exciting, and today is a day for celebration!

Sunday was St. Patrick’s day. My mum’s side has some relatives in Ireland, so she does encourage enjoying the festivities. I, however, didn’t really fully understand the meaning of the holiday until today. It is a muggle celebration that goes back to the 1600s, celebrated by various churches and marked as the day that Saint Patrick died. I believe it is mostly a Catholic religion, but I could be wrong.

There are many ways to celebrate this day. It seems adults, muggle and magical alike, tend to use the day as a reason to drink. My parents like to have Irish cream in their coffee, and will also drink Firewhiskey as well as ale. I’ve always had butterbeer that my mum will colour green with magic. My dad, however, is Pagan, so he doesn’t really celebrate like the rest of our family does.

I personally enjoy searching for four-leaf clovers on this day and pressing them in the pages of books. I’ll also make wreaths out of clovers and the first few flowers that grow in our garden. Especially narcissus and daffodils, which seem to have suddenly appeared everywhere! After this, in the spirit of learning, I decided to do a bit of reading on if Leprechauns were real or not. Often times the creatures of muggle fantasy are very real, and I found that this is no different! According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Leprechauns are creatures that are human-like in appearance and are quite the pranksters.

They grow to be about six inches in height and wear leaves. They also primarily eat leaves and other plants. They live in Ireland, in forests, and are generally harmless, classified as XXX to the Ministry of Magic. However, they do enjoy tricking muggles. You see, in muggle stories, if you go to the end of a rainbow, you’ll find a pot of gold and a leprechaun. These stories are treated as myth, and they are not completely true, but they aren’t false either. Leprechauns do have the capability of creating gold with magic, however, the gold will disappear within a few hours - making it completely useless.

As far as events go, there are parades in the bigger cities, but I’ve never gone to one, myself. My parents will usually go to pubs later in the day, but I, of course, have never gone with them. This year is different, though, because they went to a Scottish wizarding village and took me with them! We went to Hogsmeade!

My mum had a Ravenclaw girl watch me while she and my stepdad went to the Three Broomsticks. The Ravenclaw’s name is Bonnie. She’s a sixth year and is seventeen, which is why she wasn’t in the castle at the time. Her family is familiar with mine, so I knew of her vaguely before I had officially met her. Lucky for me, she turned out to be a nice person!

We went to Honeydukes and got candies. I got myself some cakes from a brand of candy-makers called the Feathersweets. They were pretty tasty! The ones I had were flavoured with lavender, rose, chamomile, and green tea. I also got chocolate cauldrons and cauldron cakes. I ended up only eating one of my sweets, and took the rest home for later.

After we stocked up on sugar, we went into the streets of Hogsmeade. Most people were either at the Three Broomsticks or the Hog’s Head, so it was fairly empty. Bonnie showed me her wand and told me she had made it herself! It was carved to look like a unicorn. I had never considered the idea that someone so young could make their own wand! She also showed me one of her other inventions, which was a clockwork niffler that would take notes during class. It was very fascinating. She’s probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met so far!

Using a spell she said I’d be learning in my first year of Hogwarts, Bonnie filled the streets with green sparks. This was because I had told her about a leprechaun firework I had once seen, that danced. We weren’t able to actually find one of those fireworks to buy, but this worked just as well.

Then we got a little closer to the bar, and she shot some green sparks at some adults who I think was drunk. One of them was a man who fell bum first into the snow! None of them got mad at us, though, because they couldn’t figure out that Bonnie was the one who had done it since she was hiding behind a box when she did. It was pretty funny! We had probably been talking for a couple hours at least, and I’ll get to see Bonnie this year when I start school. I think I’ll send her an owl, and maybe some candy before then, though. After that, my parents were done at the Three Broomsticks, and we went home.

The next few days were somewhat boring. But, today is Ostara, also known as the first day of spring! So, to celebrate, during the day I had gone out to look for bird’s eggs. Not to collect or even touch, it was more so just to see if I could find any. And I did! I found a nest of hummingbird eggs, and the eggs were as small as a Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Bean! And then I found a nest of nightjar eggs, but they were all hatched. I also went back to the place where I had found the fairy eggs, and saw that they were all hatched as well! I couldn’t find any fairies, though. I ended up taking home some of the shells of the eggs I’ve found. I’m not sure what I’ll do with them, yet, but I’ve washed them (with care!) and put them into a jar until I figure that part out.

For dinner, mum made egg drop soup to mark the holiday. Once dinner was over, I had a bath with some lavender bubbles. Afterward, we went out onto the roof with blankets and watched the full moon. I could have sworn I heard something howl in the woods, but mum says it was my imagination. I didn’t feel worried at all about hearing it, though.

Having a bath, a full belly, and blankets wrapped around me under the full moon made me sleepy. I nearly would've fallen asleep right then and there! Luckily mum woke me up and I went down to my room, and now I’m writing this. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open, though. Maybe I’ll do an in depth tarot reading later, but for now, I want to sleep. I look forward to warmer days and greener gardens, and I’m happy that we’ve gotten more sun. Until next time!

Sleep well! - Everly ((OOC Note - Happy Hufflepuff Day as well! ♥))

About the Character: Everly Rosemary Kindred is an imaginative Hufflepuff attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She keeps up with her magical journey through a series of diary entries, dream journals, and tarot readings, all documented for future reflection. Her diary is a small glimpse into her enchanted life, and her adventure into the wizarding world and all its splendors. If you’d like more information about Eve, visit her wiki page. 

About the Author: My name is Elowen! I am a 21-year-old Hufflepuff & Pukwudgie from Louisville, Kentucky. This page is my creative journey into the magical world, through the lenses of Second Life. Here I post diary entries, dream journals, and tarot readings all from my character’s perspective. If you’d like more information about me, visit my Flickr! 

Outfit Credits:

Head: GENUS Project - Genus Head - Baby Face

Hair: bonbon - cobi hair

Wreath: Boudoir - Sain't Patrick Shamrok wreath

Stars: +Half-Deer+ Starry Girl Face Stickers - Rainbow

Dress: Bowtique - Breeze Dress (Maitreya)

Necklace #1: Kibitz - Magical moon and star necklace - copper

Necklace #2: SPELL : Felix Felicis Potion

[bymyside-fic]

Here are the links to all the individual stories, but, if you’d rather, below the cut is a list of them in order (with a link to Ch 23 for chronological reading purposes lol)

(AO3 // AFF) Poisonous // Tranquil // Roasted // Spell // Chicken // Drooling // Exhausted // Star // Precious // Flowing // Cruel // Whale // Guarded // Clock // Weak // Angular // Swollen // Bottle // Scorched // Breakable // Drain // Expensive // Muddy // Chop // Prickly // Gift // Double // Jolt // Slice

- October 1, 2005 -

“What were we supposed to be looking for again?”

Kibum’s brow furrowed as he scanned the roll of parchment Professor Sprout handed out as soon as class started. The goal was to find, identify, and bring back as many plants that were on this list to the greenhouse for discussion. In only ten minutes. Once they were released, Minho had run as fast as his legs could carry him down to the Forbidden Forest, leaving Kibum to catch up.

He was panting by the time he reached Minho, who was standing on his tiptoes as he peered inside the dark shadows of the forest.

“Uh, puffapod…moonseed…four-leaf clover…mistletoe…ling – “

“Are we allowed to go in?”

Kibum looked up from the list. “Why…you see something?”

“Maybe.” Minho took a step closer to the forest, and Kibum glanced back to where Sprout was probably…definitely watching them all search. “I remember reading ahead about moonseed, and I think that – “ he pointed into the forest, “ – fits the description.”

He followed Minho’s finger, seeing nothing at first. Then, there was a faint silvery glow – how deep into the forest, it was hard to tell – with the slightest defined crescent shape. Minho gulped, and Kibum scanned the area again.

No one was watching…they’d have to be quick.

“Hand me the gloves.” Kibum looked down at Minho’s outstretched hand, sucking his teeth. “What? We can’t both go in together. We’ll get in trouble.”

“Oh, no, that’d be the worst thing ever,” Kibum said in the flattest voice he could manage as he turned around and, without breaking eye contact with Minho, stepped back into the Forbidden Forest.

The silence of the shadowed woods was deafening. Instantly, his skin started to crawl and he wanted nothing more than to get out of the woods. Minho stood frozen on the edge of the trees, watching him with wide eyes. “This was your idea, come on,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

Minho took a deep breath and stepped forward, hurrying to Kibum’s side. “Let’s make this quick.”

They both fumbled to get their wands out of their pockets, and Minho grabbed Kibum’s arm as soon as he lit the tip. They made their own path, cutting through the teaming underbrush to the alleged moonseed.

It was beautiful in almost an entrancing way. The delicate petals of the single flower flattened and curved to form a crescent moon. The scent of salt hung in the air…sort of like at the beach. The petals themselves were almost translucent, and within the crescent, there seemed to be a sort of liquid. As the breeze twisted the underbrush and the moonseed, the liquid inside swished back and forth.

Kibum stepped forward, reaching out to feel if the petals were as soft as they looked, and blinked when Minho smacked his hand away. “Wha – “

“Don’t…the petals might eat away your skin.” Minho held his hand out then, and Kibum passed him his set of gloves. “Get ready to cut the stem,” he whispered as he slipped them on. “Then we’ve gotta run.”

Slowly, very slowly, Minho reached forward and grabbed the flower with both hands, holding it closed. When he nodded, Kibum directed his wand at the thick green stalk. “Diffindo!” A flash of green, and they were off and running, back to the safety of daylight.

Not only were they awarded full marks for class participation and rarest plant found that day, but they also got detention for embarking into the Forbidden Forest.

With Filch.

To clean all the baseboards in the Great Hall.

“Was it worth it?” Analecia asked them as they were all on their way downstairs.

“No,” Kibum said at the same time that Minho exclaimed, “Of course!”

* - * - *

- October 2, 2005 -

A long sigh was followed by the scrape of a turned page. Minho blinked slowly, the text in A History of Magic blurring until he blinked again. He glanced over at Kibum, who had started humming to the cadence of the spell they had learned in Transfiguration today.

What was it?

Kibum hummed it again, and Minho squinted as he tried to remember which one it was, but it was to no avail.

Oh well, it was almost time for bed anyways.

A smile disrupted his yawn when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kibum practicing the new wand movements. He stretched his legs out of their crossed position, his toes pressing against the opposite wall of their study closet. Soon, he relaxed and his legs rested across Kibum’s shins. Minho glanced over to see if he was bothering him, but Kibum didn’t seem to pay him any mind.

No, he was too focused on jotting down notes.

Minho rested his head on the wall, staring into the warm yellow glow of the myriad candles posted around the closet.

It was no real shock that this closet was his favorite place in the entire castle. Tranquil and secluded, as only he and Kibum knew about it. Inside, it always smelled faintly of old parchment and Grandma’s baking, even if she hadn’t baked them anything for a while. He felt at peace here, like he was free to be himself, without judgment.

Another long sigh, from him; another page turned, from Kibum.

Minho closed A History of Magic and hugged it to his chest, his eyes closing as he rested his chin on the top. Kibum was humming again, not to a spell this time, but to a song that Minho didn’t recognize. He felt himself start to drift off, and he shook his head to wake up a little.

Kibum’s song ended abruptly. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I’m good whenever, but take your time.”

He could feel Kibum’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t be bothered to look up. “Five more minutes?”

“Mm.”

His humming resumed, and another page was turned.

Minho smiled.

* - * - *

- October 3, 2005 -

“All right, everyone!” Professor Flitwick said as he tapped his wand on the top of the podium. “Get out your textbooks and turn to page 29.”

Kibum pushed up the sleeves of his robe as Minho took The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 out of his backpack and found the right page. “Is it hot in here to you?” he whispered.

Minho snorted. “Yeah, it’s Charms. Flitwick likes being warm.”

“I know that already.” His sweaty hand stuck to the parchment as tried to take notes when Flitwick started to talk about the Mending Charm. Huffing, he raised his hand off the desk, the parchment coming with it, and glowered at Minho as he shook it off.

Minho pursed his lips to keep from smiling, even as he dabbed beads of sweat from his forehead. “Like, I’ll admit, it’s a little toasty i – “

“A…little toasty? We’re being roasted alive!”

Flitwick cleared his throat, quieting both Kibum and Minho for the moment, and continued with his lesson. Midway through, Kibum slipped off his robe and let it fall across the back of the bench. Beside him, Minho’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, even though a few moments later, his own robe joined his.

When the bell rang to dismiss them, it was a race to get out of the sweltering classroom first. Unfortunately, Minho took a little longer to get their things back into his backpack, so they were at the back of the pack. Kibum groaned, fanning himself by pulling back and forth on the front of his uniform shirt and sweater.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

When they were finally free of the classroom, Kibum let out a huge sigh as they followed the rest of the third years to the History of Magic classroom. Minho stopped walking after a second, and Kibum turned around to see why.

“Why are you taking off your robe?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward involuntarily as he approached Kibum and draped his robe around him. “You looked cold, so – “ Laughing, he ducked away from Kibum’s attempt to punch his arm, running down the hall to catch up with the others.

* - * - *

- October 4, 2005 -

It was the first sunny afternoon for since the first week of the term, and Minho had insisted that he and Kibum spend some time outside before heading up to the seventh floor to study after dinner. They picked apples for themselves for a snack as they made their way out to the yard.

The sun was out and shining, but it was on the cool side of warm. Heavy gray clouds occasionally passed over it, the threat of rain lurking in the air.

Still, they stayed, Kibum laying beside Minho, who was sitting with his back against a rock. They talked about whatever came to mind, which, at the moment, was Kibum venting about the essay they were assigned in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Minho listened, humming in response, but his eyes never left the Whomping Willow.

It was such a strange tree.

There were so many in Korea, all unsurprisingly non-violent. They even had one in their backyard. Dad hung a swing for them and everything.

“Random question,” Minho asked once Kibum sighed after he finished his thoughts about the essay.

“Hmm?”

Minho took another bite of his apple, wiping the juice off his lips as he chewed quickly. “Is this the only Whomping Willow in the world?”

Kibum squinted up at him, holding his hand over his eyes to block the muted sunlight. “I’m not sure. I think Grandma said they were more but I don’t know where.”

He nodded to the Forbidden Forest. “Think there could be some in there?” Kibum shrugged and Minho took another bite of his apple. “I wonder if they’re like – “ he swallowed his bite “ – the guardians of the forest.”

Smiling, Kibum lowered his hand and clasped them together over his stomach. “I don’t see why not.”

Minho tossed the apple core away when he was finished, licking the juice off his fingers before wiping them dry on his pants. It’d be time to head inside soon since dinner would be starting within the hour. He yawned, freezing mid-stretch when he felt the pitter-patter of raindrops on his skin.

It didn’t take long for them to head inside, but by the time they reached the castle, they were both drenched. Minho slipped out of his robe quickly and helped Kibum out of his. The sound of the downpour outside almost drowned out Kibum’s chattering teeth, Minho’s own sniffling, and the rain dripping from their robes onto the floor.

Almost.

After a second or two of searching, Minho took his wand out of his robe pocket. “Accio hoodies!” It only took a moment before two of Minho’s Manchester hoodies made their way to where they stood in the corridor. Minho tossed their robes on the windowsill so he could catch them. “Which one do you want?” he asked, holding up his red and black Manchester hoodies.

“Thanks, Min,” Kibum said as he reached for the red one.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Soon, they were both a little warmer. Kibum moved around Minho and grabbed the robes, and they both started walking down the hall. “Let’s go see if the fireplaces are lit in the Great Hall, so we can dry these off.”

* - * - *

- October 5, 2005 -

Broth bubbled in a cauldron over the fire, carrots and pearl onions and leaves of thyme rolling in the boil. Kibum stepped up on his tiptoes and peered inside, stirring the soup with a wooden spoon. He took the spoon out of the broth, blowing some of the steam away before tasting.

“Hmm, needs salt, I think.”

Kibum went back over to the counter to grab the bowl of salt and looked over at Minho, who sat on the end of the “Slytherin” table in the kitchen with his knees tucked up into his sweatshirt to try to conserve heat. “Bummie, I’m fine, really. I can just wait until morning.”

Minho was recovering from a cold – no big deal, Pomfrey gave Pepper-Up Potion and kept him in the infirmary until the steam dissipated – but come dinnertime, he hadn’t been hungry. And he wasn’t until they were almost done studying for the night.

This was Kibum’s dad’s old chicken soup recipe, something he showed Kibum how to make one day when they were both home sick. It stuck with him, all these years later, even though he hadn’t made it since…

“I’m almost done, buddy, don’t worry.” He sprinkled a little more salt in, stirring while he did. “Wanna get bowls?”

Minho sniffed. “Sure.”

Soon there was a clatter of ceramic from across the kitchen, and he brought them over to the counter as Kibum slowly carried the cauldron of soup over to the counter. He dished some out for each of them, making sure there was a healthy amount of broth and chicken and vegetables in Minho’s before he handed it to him.

Spoons? Where were the spoons in here? Kibum looked up when there was a metallic clink over by Minho, who was pulling two spoons out of his pocket. He set his bowl down next to Minho, picking up his spoon after Minho had taken his first bite.

“Is it okay?”

Minho closed his eyes before he took another bite. “It’s so good.” He let out a relieved sigh, pooling broth in his spoon. Minho sniffed again, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. He smiled sleepily when Kibum looked over at him. “Thanks.”

* - * - *

- October 6, 2005 -

“…and, even though the spell has long been forgotten in the time that has passed, the captured witches used what is now referred to as the Flame-freezing Charm. It made their escape possible, as they were able to apparate away from the fire – or, that’s how it is believed that they were able to escape, no one knows for sure – but even then they were forced to live in hiding, away from the natural world that we as magic folk had grown so accustomed to…”

Minho yawned, propping his chin on his hand as he continued to scribble notes on his and Kibum’s parchment. He was starting to run out of room, though, as Kibum had fallen asleep with his face and hand taking up over half of the parchment. Kibum smacked his lips before he let out a quiet snore, and Minho rolled his eyes, smiling as he looked back up at the ever-dull Professor Binns.

“…which is why we must keep our history, identities, and heritage a secret from any and all Muggles, because, as you’ve seen from this class, history is doomed to repeat itself if we don’t learn from it.”

Kibum’s thumb twitched, Minho glancing down at the slight movement. Dipping his quill in the inkwell, he sketched a tiny star on the back of his hand. He kept checking to see if Kibum had woken up yet or not.

He hadn’t.

So, Minho drew another star, and then another, creating a tiny constellation on the back of Kibum’s hand. Binns cleared his throat, and Minho stopped drawing to go back to his note-taking. Except…he really needed the space on the parchment.

Minho set the quill aside and pushed Kibum’s head aside as gently as he could manage, cracking up as he did. Apparently, Kibum was drooling. Rhesa glanced back at him, and when he shook his head she went back to her reading. He took the sleeve of Kibum’s robe and wiped the puddle off of the parchment before sliding his hand away as well.

It didn’t take long for Kibum to wake up – probably because of the cool wood of the desk beneath his face. He sat up slowly, his eyes bleary and somewhat confused as he looked around the classroom. After a second, he wiped the corner of his mouth and looked down at his hand.

“Was I…drooling?”

“A little bit, yeah.” Kibum’s entire face flushed and he avoided Minho’s gaze as he sat back in his seat. “It’s okay. Everyone does it.”

Kibum nodded, the tips of his ears still a little red. “Did I miss anything interesting?” he asked as he pulled Minho’s notes toward him on the bench.

He paused, holding out his hand to inspect the constellation doodle that Minho had drawn for just a second, and smiled as he started to read while Minho went back to listening to Binns voice as he droned on…and on…and on.

* - * - *

- October 7, 2005 -

“Ready?” Professor Sinistra asked, her voice annoyingly cheery, being that it was midnight. Or, almost midnight. A murmured yes sounded from the gathered third years. “Let’s go then!”

She started sprinting up the stairs, hiking up her dark blue velvet robes, and the students followed her. Beside Kibum, Minho dragged his feet, lagging behind until Kibum wrapped his arm around his waist. “Come on, buddy, let’s get this over with.”

“I’m really not in the mood for this tonight.” Minho stopped on a landing, watching the other students follow Sinistra and letting out a whiny groan. “I don’t know why I’m so exhausted.”

Kibum rolled his eyes with a smile. It had been a…long day for Minho, with the Charms and Potions test as well as a four-hour long Quidditch game. It was a close game, but Ricky Chase, Slytherin’s Seeker, ended up catching the Snitch first. After dinner, when Kibum saw Minho again, there was a bit of soup in Minho’s hair.

“What…is that?” he had asked, inspecting it for himself once they were out of the Great Hall.

“Yeah, I dozed off into my soup,” he said with a dorky smile.

Once they finally reached the top of the tower, Kibum found them a spot at the back of the group and they sat on the ground with the others as Professor Sinistra started to talk about the theory of charting stars. Again. Minho slumped against his side and Kibum glanced over to see him struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Go ahead and sleep, if you want,” Kibum whispered as he looked back at Sinistra. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

He half-expected Minho to refuse, but a moment later his head rested on Kibum’s shoulder.

* - * - *

- October 8, 2005 -

“You got them?”

Minho shook the hand that was stuffed in his hoodie pocket, the many glow-in-the-dark stars inside clacking together. Kibum opened the door to their study closet and started to light the candles as Minho followed him inside. He sat down on the floor, dumping out the stars and arranging them by size until Kibum sat beside him.

“Okay, so what’d I miss last night.”

Kibum stretched out, reaching for his copy of Celestial Readings and Histories, and grabbed his folded notes from within the pages. When he unfolded it, Minho saw a rough sketch of what the sky looked like, as well as a few notes. Kibum grabbed a handful of Minho’s assorted stars and started tacking them on the wall. “Can you go get your sticky parchments?”

“My post-it notes?”

Kibum’s face colored slightly. “Yeah.” Minho slipped behind him, rummaging through his stash of Muggle supplies to find the neon pink post-it notes. “Cassiopeia is up here,” he said, tapping the constellation he just finished applying to the wall. Minho scrawled out Cassiopeia and stuck it on the wall.

“Andromeda?” Minho asked when Kibum finished another, and he nodded with a hum.

It took them an hour at least, and even then Kibum said that it wasn’t complete. “It’s just all I can remember. Don’t forget your favorite one,” he said, pointing to the one that kind of looked like a tie.

“Boötes! How could I forget!” He grinned as stuck the post-it note to it.

“I still don’t understand why you like that one so much.”

Minho just shrugged, scanning the star chart. “Huh, neither of our zodiacs are there.”

“Eh, it’s not a big deal. Hey, you should make your notes so we can get started on studying for tomorrow’s Defense test.”

“True.” Minho grabbed a spare roll of parchment and started to sketch out the chart for himself.

* - * - *

- October 9, 2005 -

It was always a moment highly anticipated, the appearance of the owls with the mail first thing in the morning. Kibum stirred his cereal, resting his chin on his fist and glancing up at the windows when he heard the first flutter of wings.

It had been almost two weeks since either Grandma or Mom had sent him anything, and he honestly wasn’t expecting anything. He took a couple bites of his Pixie Puffs, trying to blink away his sleepiness away. His spoon clattered into his bowl, splashing milk over the rim, when Nutmeg landed on the table before him.

“Hey, Meg.” He reached out to stroke the feathers between his eyes. He dropped the package in his talons and flew away as Kibum said, “Thank you!”

“What’d you get?” Aaron asked, looking at him over the top of a letter from his mom.

“Probably the usual.” Kibum opened the package and closed his eyes, smiling, when the scent of fresh pumpkin pasties wafted toward him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Callum reaching across the table to grab one. Out of instinct, Kibum smacked his hand away.

“Come on, they smell so good!”

“Yeah, I know. And they’re mine.”

Callum scoffed. “Analecia always shares her stuff.”

Kibum glanced over at her before he hugged his package to his chest. “Yeah, but…these are precious…to me…” his voice trailed off as his face grew warmer.

“Mine is always, like, candy bars.” Analecia shooed Callum away when he started to reach for them again. “Leave him alone. Eat your own breakfast.”

He set his box in his lap while he quickly finished his breakfast, leaving the Slytherin table before the bell rang. He ran into Minho as he was on his way back to his house and Minho was heading to class. “Oh, hey, you finally got a package!”

“Yeah!” Minho walked with him to the entrance of Slytherin, since he was on his way to Potions, anyway.

“I’ll see you in Charms, okay?” he said as he kept going down the darkened hallway.

“Hey, wait!” Minho walked backward, stopping beside Kibum again as he dug a pumpkin pastie out of the box, splitting it in half and handing the bigger side to him.

Even in the dark, Kibum could see Minho’s eyes light up. “Thanks, Bummie,” he said, as he took a bite and started to walk again.

Smiling, Kibum unlocked the entrance to Slytherin, scarfing down his half as he headed inside.

* - * - *

- October 10, 2005 -

Even though it was the afternoon, the air was still delightfully crisp. Squirrels chittered above Minho and Kibum as they walked down the deer’s path in the little patch of woods between the owlery and the Black Lake – the students jokingly referred to it as Merlin’s Beard. The breeze was perfumed with the scent of earth and fallen leaves.

Minho jumped off the path, crunching leaves beneath his feet.

“Glacius,” Kibum said behind him, pointing his hand at the trees ahead of them as if he were holding his wand.

“Glacius!” Minho repeated, grimacing at his lisp. They were practicing the new spell they learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. O’Neely had impressed them all during class when he frosted over the dragon’s skeleton.

A faint gurgling distracted Minho as Kibum repeated the spell again, and he weaved through the trees to find a bubbling creek cutting through the underbrush. It was flowing fairly steadily, probably because of all the rain they had been getting lately. Minho whipped his wand out of his pocket, pointing it at the stream.

“Gla – “

“There you are!” He jumped at the sound of Kibum’s voice, turning to watch him trudge through the underbrush to get to him. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing! What’s a better thing to try freezing than water?”

“Makes sense.” Kibum pulled out his wand. “Where’s your’s?”

Minho held up his hand and glanced over to find that his wand was no longer there. Panic clenched his heart as he swung back toward the creek. He must have dropped it when Kibum surprised him…

As he ran downstream, he kept his eyes trained on the flowing water, earnestly searching for any sign of his wand. Kibum was on his heels, he could hear his labored breathing behind him. They rand almost to the Black Lake before Minho spotted it, the red of the cedar standing out amidst the duller brown of the twigs it got caught in.

Thoughtlessly, Minho stepped into the creek after it, without taking off his shoes or robe, catching it just as the current was starting to loosen it again. Kibum offered his hand to help him out of the water, and Minho took it.

“You think it’ll be okay?” Kibum whispered as Minho started to dry it off with the sleeve of his robe.

“Hopefully.” His teeth were chattering by the time he thought it was dry enough, and he pointed his wand away from them and the creek. “Win-wingard-ium le-leviosa,” he said, shivering enough to stutter.

Nothing happened.

He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his wand before he did the proper wand movements again. “Wingardium leviosa!”

A slightly electric buzz coursed through his fingers, not enough to sting, as the fallen leaves around them slowly rose to eye level, dropping with a rustle as Minho lowered his wand. Kibum sighed, clutching his heart, and Minho grinned. “We’re good!”

* - * - *

- October 11, 2005 -

A chill blew through Kibum as one of the Ravenclaw Beaters zoomed past the stands, carrying the autumn breeze on their back. Shivering, he shoved his hands into Minho’s sweatshirt pockets and leaned forward to check his position in the air.

Yep, still hadn’t moved, and neither had Ravenclaw’s Seeker.

Even at this distance, Kibum could see the slump in Minho’s shoulders as the watched the game play out before him. He pretended not to care about the game now, but Kibum knew better than to believe that. In practice, Minho’s ability to locate and catch the painted walnuts was amazing. He was…so good at it, but every time Kibum tried to tell him so, he brushed it off, smiling shyly and changing the subject. His confidence had been dashed too much for him to believe it himself.

Across the pitch, Minho flew forward, circling around high above the play. Kibum took his hands out of the sweatshirt pocket and cupped them around his mouth. “You’ve got this, Choi!”

Beside him, Aaron scoffed. “It’s not like he can hear you.”

“So?” Kibum blew some warmth into his fingers before he stuffed his hands back in the pocket. “I’ll still cheer whether he can or not.”

Callum rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because it really helps.” He looked over at Kibum, freezing in place when he saw the look in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like th – “ he shut up when Kibum clenched his jaw.

“There’s no need to be cruel. Also, you don’t have to come to games with me if you don’t want to.”

“I – we do!”

Kibum looked back at the game, just in time to see Ravenclaw celebrating their win. He sighed, watching Minho’s descent. Once he was safely on the ground, Kibum stood, stepping down the stands on his way downstairs, and left Callum and Aaron behind.

He stepped out of the wind and into the Hufflepuff tunnel as the team was filing inside the locker room. Minho spotted him just as he was about to head inside and he hung his head before closing the door behind him. Kibum still made his way over to the locker room, leaning against the wall as he waited for them to leave. It didn’t take long for them to change back into their school clothes, and Minho was the first one out the door.

He offered Kibum a tired smile, any light behind his eyes gone. “Hey.”

Kibum had been about to answer but held his tongue as the other players passed by, all of them patting Minho’s back. “You okay?” Kibum asked once the last of them left the hall. Minho simply shrugged. “Wanna talk about it?” Gulping, he shook his head. “Okay.”

When Minho started for the exit, Kibum threw his arm over his shoulder, holding him close as they started to walk. “You know…”

“Hmm?”

“Once you win your first game, you’re gonna need to be prepared.”

Minho frowned, his bottom lip jutting out in a sort-of pout. “For what?”

“I don’t know yet! But it’ll be good. I’ll think of something.”

“You probably won’t have to.” Kibum pinched his shoulder. “Ow, hey!” Minho did his best impression of a glare as they stepped onto the lawn, and Kibum dropped his arm.

“Look, hey, look at me.” Sighing, Minho met Kibum’s eyes. “I know you don’t believe in yourself right now, and, like, I get that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t, okay?” He poked Minho’s stomach, who pushed Kibum’s finger away.

“Okay.”

“Now…let’s go eat the rest of the shit Grandma sent me.”

“All of it?” Minho asked, a little glimmer returning to his eyes.

Kibum grinned. “Why not? Hey!” Huffing, he ran after Minho, who was dashing across the lawn back to the castle.

* - * - *

- October 12, 2005 -

“Where are you going?”

Minho dropped the sandwich he was holding onto a cloth napkin as he looked over at Gilbert. He reached over, grabbing another one. “Back to the…the room.”

“How come?”

“Uh…I’m gonna study for the Defense quiz.”

“Are we even allowed to do that?”

“Don’t know.” He grabbed two apples and a handful of cookies before he tied the napkin up. “Don’t really care, to be honest.”

“Such a badass rebel,” Seb said, smirking when Minho and their dorm mates started to chuckle. “So inspiring!”

They started to whoop and holler when Minho stood, and his face flushed when other students started to turn and look at them. “Shut up, oh my god,” he said, trying to suppress his laughter. Seb grinned cheekily at him as he started to walk toward the door. He ran into Kibum on the stairwell, and he held up the napkin. “Got it!”

“What took you so long?”

“My dorm mates are idiots.”

Kibum snorted. “Let’s go.” He followed him down the stairs and the hall toward Slytherin, both peering down the hall and into the shadows. “I think we’re good. Argenti anguis.”

Faint green light seeped into the hallway, and Minho followed Kibum inside the house. “Where is it?”

“Not in the common room,” Kibum said, chuckling. He led Minho to the stairs that led to the dorms, then past them down the thin hallway. As they walked, the air grew chilly and damp. Minho shivered when Kibum muttered, “Almost there…”

There was a turn and then a dip in the hall before it opened up to reveal an unexpectedly huge room. It almost reminded Minho of a movie theater, except instead of seats and carpet there was slate and the occasional boulders. A slightly convex wall of water ran in from the floor to the ceiling, The room itself was dark, save for the light filtering through the water and the torches posted about the room.

It was oddly serene.

When Kibum had told him about the Lacuspectio, he hadn’t been expecting that. His chest tightened as he walked inside, staring unblinkingly at the water. He froze, his eyes widening when a mermaid made eye contact with him as a cluster of them swam past the opening. “Did – “ he looked back at Kibum, who was watching him and grinning. “Did you see them?”

“Cool, right?”

Minho plopped down on one of the boulders, looking back up at the water. “So, is there glass there?”

“Actually, no. the water is just held up by some sort of spell.” Minho scoffed, as he was used to Kibum’s sarcastic sense of humor. “No, seriously.” Kibum walked over to the lowest part of the wall, rolling up the sleeve of his robe, and stuck his hand into the water, waving at Minho. “You don’t want to have any part of you in there too long though, because the Grindylow are vicious.”

“Oh…my god…”

Kibum laughed as he made his way back over to Minho, shaking the water off his hand. “Scoot over.” He did, and Kibum sat next to him on the boulder. He grabbed the napkin off of Minho’s lap and untied the knot, digging through the contents to get to one of the sandwiches.

Minho took the other, mindlessly eating it as he watched fish swim past. “Is there, like…a whale in the lake?”

“That’d be awesome, but no. There is a squid though.”

“Well, that’s still cool.”

He set his half-eaten sandwich on Kibum’s knee before he leapt off the boulder and started running to the wall. He held his hand over the surface, staring at the slight shimmer of the spell keeping the Black Lake at bay. Several droplets of water fell on his hand, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You need to finish eating, Choi!”

Sighing, Minho tore himself away from the water and trudged back to Kibum. “This won’t be the only time you bring me here, will it?”

“Of course not.”

Minho relaxed, looking back up at the water. He didn’t look away once until Kibum ushered him out of the room to get ready to go to their next class.

* - * - *

- October 13, 2005 -

It was a rare occasion, to be let out of History of Magic early. It didn’t happen often. In fact, in the three years that Kibum had been at school, this was only the third time, and it was for the same reason every time.

Professor Binns had been in the midst of drolly reading someone’s – out of sheer boredom, Kibum had forgotten who – essay on the witch hunts in America when he just…stopped talking, sat back in his chair, and started to snore. Those who were still awake stayed quiet for a moment, glancing around at each other. Kibum pinched Minho’s elbow until he stirred.

“Hm…what?”

“It happened again.”

Minho sniffed, blinking blearily as he looked over at where Professor Binns slept…or whatever it was ghosts did when it looked like they were sleeping. He stared for a minute as he gradually became more alert.

“Hey,” Aaron slapped his hand on their desk, startling Minho. “We’re gonna go finish our reading in the library, if you wanna join us?”

Analecia walked up behind them, her books in hand, and raised her eyebrows expectedly at Kibum. “You up for that, buddy?” he said, glancing over at a still very sleepy Minho.

“Yeah…”

“We’ll meet you down there.” Kibum started to help Minho pack his backpack full of their things as they walked away with most of the other students. “You good?” he asked, once they were standing and Minho started to sway a little. He nodded, and trudged out the door. Kibum kept his hand on Minho’s backpack, ready to guide him away from doorways or to catch him if he started to fall down the stairs.

Minho was not usually that clumsy, but after a History of Magic nap? For some reason, those were always the worst to wake up from.

They made slow progress to the library, and once they were inside, it took a while to find them. Eventually, they found Aaron, Callum, and Analecia in the Reference section, sitting at one of the tables. Kibum and Minho sat opposite them, and Minho set his backpack between them as he dug out their books.

“Hey, Minho,” Aaron said, leaning toward him on the table. Minho’s eyes flicked toward him, his expression slightly nervous. “Did you hear about England’s win yesterday?”

He gasped. “Yes! My brother wrote to me about it!”

Oh, it was just football.

Kibum rolled his eyes with a smile as Minho’s remaining nap fog was completely eradicated. He leaned across the table, too, and both started talking excitedly about the details of a game that neither of them watched. Kibum finished getting their books out, sliding Minho’s to him before opening his own.

It was hard to concentrate, with both of them chattering on like they were. Somehow the conversation morphed from football to Quidditch, and now Callum joined them. Kibum rested his cheek on his hand, glancing over at the three of them before his gaze settled on Minho.

It was always…sorta cute how happy he got whenever he talked about sports. Kibum didn’t understand it at all, but he was willing to indulge Minho whenever he talked to him about it. His excitement was palpable, and Kibum couldn’t help but smile himself.

Analecia coughed and Kibum blinked as he looked over at her, surprised to find her giving him a knowing look – quite similar to the ones Jonghyun would give him during Minho’s visit this last summer. He glanced between her and Minho before he shook his head at her. He was his best friend, like, so what that Minho brought out his soft side? It wasn’t that big of a deal, right?

Whatever…maybe he’d just have to be a little more guarded with his expressions when he and Minho were around other people.

He looked down at his book again, trying to find where they had left off in class.

* - * - *

- October 14, 2005 -

The bell from the clock tower rang out, announcing the end of classes for the day. Professor Sprout stopped talking until the chiming stopped, taking her peat-caked gloves off while she waited. “Go ahead and pack your things. We’ll pick up with Puffapods on Monday.”

Minho grabbed his backpack from beneath the table as Kibum stacked their books together, holding it open for him to fit them inside. “Wanna do anything before dinner?”

“I guess we could drop our books off,” Kibum said, zipping up Minho’s backpack before standing.

“Did you send your letter to Jonghyun yet?”

“Oh shit! I forgot!” He felt around in his robe pockets, pulling out a rolled up parchment tied in a blue ribbon. He offered Minho a sheepish smile. “I can go do that and I’ll meet you in the Great Hall?”

“I can come with. I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Minho smiled and nodded. “Okay.” He followed Kibum out the door, stopping in the doorway to say goodbye to Sprout. He had to jog to catch up to him, and when he did, the 5 o’clock bell rang. “Did I tell you,” Kibum said once the ringing died in the air, “about what we learned yesterday in Muggle Studies?”

Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t think you did.” Their footsteps resounded in on the bridge, the petrichor from the afternoon rain heavy in the hallway. “Still talking about…turning…time?”

Kibum smiled as he stepped around a puddle. “Time-Turners. And yes.” A gust of wind whipped around them, starting Minho’s teeth chattering. “This was back when they were first getting tested, but apparently the reason why there’s a five-hour-back limit is that back in the early 1900′s, some wizards were spotted by Muggles and they were suspected to be time-travelers.”

“Well, I mean…”

“Right,” Kibum said with a laugh. “But that’s why Time-Turners were mandated by the Ministry to make sure that wizards everywhere maintained the statute of secrecy.”

“Makes sense.” They climbed up the steps to the owlery, picking up their pace when rain started to fall again. Once they were safely inside the owlery, Minho shook the rain out of his hair as Kibum called for Nutmeg and got him situated with his letter to Jonghyun.

“Okay, so,” Minho started to say once they were safely under the roof of the bridge again on their way back inside the castle. “If you could use a Time-Turner once, what would you do with it?”

He smirked. “Only going back five hours? It wasn’t a bad day, so…”

“No, no, like, however far back you wanted.”

Minho could see the wheels turning in Kibum’s head, his half-smile turning into a sort-of frown. Was he thinking about his dad? If he was, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing…but Minho just hated to see him upset. Kibum glanced over at him, his frown disappearing as he shook his head. “Can’t think of anything. What about you?”

“I’d go back to this morning and get another hour of sleep.”

Kibum snorted. “I don’t think they work like that.”

“So? That’s what I’d do! I’d figure out a way to make it work.”

“I believe in you,” Kibum said, the dry tone in his voice breaking when Minho pulled his hood off of his head. “Hey!” He started to chase Minho, but it was short-lived when Minho slipped on account of his rain-slick shoes. Minho cushioned his fall with his hands before he sunk to the ground, their laughter pealing through the corridor. Eventually, Kibum made his over to him, still laughing, and helped him up off the floor. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

* - * - *

- October 15, 2005 -

A droplet of wax from the hovering candles splattered on the Slytherin table. Kibum moved his plate away from it, cutting the last brussel sprout on his plate in half before he ate it. He tossed the other half around his plate with his fork, dragging it through the leftover gravy from his potatoes.

The weekends were fairly lazy at Hogwarts, since they didn’t have classes. Because it was Saturday, Minho had Quidditch practice – which seemed to be running late, given that Minho wasn’t in the Great Hall – in the afternoon at the same time that he had choir practice.

It was a new experience for him, singing with the other students. When he told Minho and Jonghyun about his possible interest in joining the frog choir, they were both, unsurprisingly, very supportive. He enjoyed it, so far, even though learning songs in Latin was harder than he had been expecting.

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and in came a small band of people – Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Kibum thought. He spotted Minho among them, smiling when he waved at him on his way to the Hufflepuff table. Kibum’s smile fell, however, when he noticed a bright, white bandage wrapped around Minho’s hand.

His fork clattered on his plate, startling Callum and Analecia, and he was on his feet, hurrying – but not running – to the other side of the Great Hall. He reached Minho as he was about to sit down.

“Hey, Bummie!” He said, smiling up at him. Kibum blinked, pointing at his bandaged hand. Minho scooted over, opening up a little more space between himself and Marvin, and Kibum sat beside him. “It’s really not a big deal. My hand got smashed in the Quidditch kit. Broke two of the bones, apparently. I was straightening the Snitch in its case and Zach dropped the lid before I could get my hand out.”

Kibum gingerly took his bandaged hand, inspecting the purpling bruise peeking out from beneath the white cloth. “Are you okay?”

Minho stretched his fingers, audibly wincing. “Pomfrey said I should be good by Monday. It’ll just be a little weak for a while.”

“Ahh.” He took his hand back as he started to dish himself up dinner with his good hand. “Can’t she use a potion or something to heal it quicker?”

“She used a spell,” Minho said around his mouthful of potatoes. “I can’t remember which one. It just takes a couple of days, that’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep!” Kibum frowned and Minho laughed. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt that bad, really. I’m fine.” He reached for his empty goblet. “Hey, can you get me some pum – “ Kibum took it from him, filling it with pumpkin juice before he passed it back. “Thanks.” He took a long drink before he set the goblet down. “So, how was your practice?”

“Fine. Good, actually.” Minho nodded, taking another bite of his potatoes. “Promise you’ll be more careful?”

Minho stopped eating for a second, meeting Kibum’s gaze. “Promise.”

* - * - *

- October 16, 2005 -

A mist rolled out from the shadows in the Forbidden Forest and onto the shore of the Black Lake. The sun peaked out from the clouds, setting the surface of the lake aglitter. Kibum took a deep breath of the chilled fresh air, letting it out with a smile.

Way back in first year, he and Minho had agreed that they wouldn’t study – unless it was for finals – on Sundays, which meant they could do whatever they wanted. All day.

At the moment, Minho was searching the shoreline for the perfect skipping stone. He was about ten paces away from where Kibum was sitting, currently crouching by the water and inspecting each rock he pulled out. Kibum pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands and turned on his polaroid, checking the film before he snapped a quick picture of Minho.

He caught the picture, setting it on his lap as it started to develop, and turned the polaroid at an angle as he took another. Minho was standing now, holding the few “perfect” stones he found in his bandaged hand. He started to toss them, getting a couple of skips out of each of them.

On his last toss, he accidentally stepped into the water, and Kibum captured exactly when he jumped out of the water and looked his way, laughing. He dropped that picture onto his lap with the others. Kibum grinned, lowering his camera and stuffing the pictures into his pocket as Minho made his way back to him.

“Find one?”

Minho shrugged, rubbing his red-tipped nose and sniffing. “I got four skips, didn’t you see?”

Nodding, Kibum glanced down at his bandaged hand Minho squinted in a sort-of wince. “Ready to go inside?”

“Yeah. I need to change out of these shoes and socks.” He shook his dripping shoe, laughing when Kibum shied away from the flying droplets.

“I’ll let you borrow the wool socks Grandma made me. They’re really warm.”

“Okay!” Minho offered him his good hand, helping Kibum get up, and they started back toward the castle.

* - * - *

- October 17, 2005 -

Raindrops fell from the night sky, stopping just above the flames of the hovering candles. The scraping of forks and knives and excited chatter surrounded Minho as he worked on finishing his dinner. He reached for the last dinner roll on the plate before him and his dormmates, and as he bit into it, the plate refilled itself.

“All I’m saying is, if you’re gonna be a professor, then you shouldn’t – “

“Hey,” Minho said as he swallowed his mouthful. The other five looked at him curiously. “Do you think these plates are really bottomless?”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced up at Travis before he took another roll. “Like, they refill themselves. Do you think there’d be a point where they…don’t?”

“Let’s find out!” Seb grabbed the plate, dumping it out on the table. Marvin caught one that almost bounced off and fell onto the floor while Gilbert cleared a space for Seb to set the plate back down. Within seconds, the plate refilled again, steam curling off of them.

Eli grabbed one of the fresh ones with a grin. “Do it again!” So he did, again, and again, and the plate refilled every time. Rolls were piled almost at their eye level now. Seb was about to do it again until Travis glanced down the table and pulled his arm back.

All six of them turned to see Sydney Blanchard, their Prefect and Head Girl, snapping her fingers to get their attention. They all shrunk back as she glared at them. “Stop.” Gilbert nervously cracked up, the others starting to giggle as well. “You all better fucking behave.” Minho pursed his lips, doing his best to sober up, and she turned back to her friend, rolling her eyes, and continued to eat her dinner.

Minho stared at the mess of rolls around them. A couple rolled off onto the bench and floor when Gilbert moved his arm. “Well, now what do we do?”

Travis grabbed two, stuffing them into his pockets. “At least we didn’t try this with the mashed potatoes.” They all started forcing as many dinner rolls as they could into their robe pockets and passing them down the table until there were none left. “It sucks that we still don’t know,” he said as they started to get up from the table to leave the Great Hall.

“There’s always tomorrow, my friend,” Seb said, clapping his hand on Travis’ back. Minho followed them out, glancing over at Slytherin to see Kibum standing. He hung back at the doorway, watching the others head downstairs as he waited for Kibum to join him.

“Hey!”

“Hi.” Kibum gave him an incredulous look, pointing at his swollen pockets. “What the hell?”

“Oh,” Minho snorted, pulling out one of the rolls and passing it to Kibum as they started heading upstairs. “We were conducting an experiment.”

“Well, that explains the commotion.” He squished the roll, tearing off a chunk and smiling at Minho. “At least we’ll have snacks for studying for a while.”

* - * - *

- October 18, 2005 -

Sunlight filtered through the long windows of the infirmary, gilding the dust as it settled in the bustle. Every bed was full, as there had been an outbreak of the flu, and Madam Pomfrey and the nurses under her were flitting from bed to bed, checking on the sick.

Minho crossed the threshold of the infirmary with Kibum, tentatively moving along the wall to stand in front of the medicine cupboard. “Do you think we have enough time to wait?”

“Hopefully.” They had left lunch a little early so that Pomfrey could check to see if he bandages could come off, and they did have a free period before there next class. So…probably…but there were a lot of sick students. “Wait, is the Crowell?”

Minho stopped fussing with his bandage to look where Kibum was pointing. Sure enough, Professor Crowell was there, looking like she was either about to throw up or just finished doing so. He grimaced, looking back down at his hand and pulling away the bandage a bit to inspect the bruise. It was mostly brown now with yellowing spots, which meant it was healing, right?

“Do you think we should try to get someone’s attention?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets so he would stop poking his bruise. “I don’t want to bother her. If I don’t get it off today, then I don’t.”

“Okay.” Kibum glanced around, eventually turning to look at all the bottles of potions in the cupboard. “What do you think these all do?”

It was hard to tell, as most of them were unlabeled. Well, the names of the potions weren’t written on the bottles, some of them just had pictures drawn on them, as if they were supposed to know which potion was which from a few symbols.

“Why are you asking me? You’re the potions expert.”

Kibum tried to hide his smile as he shoved Minho away from him. “Am not.” He looked back at the cupboard as Minho trotted back to his side. “What about this one, with the eye – “

“Mr. Choi?” Both he and Kibum turned at the sound of Pomfrey’s voice. “What is it you need?”

“Uh, I was just coming to get my hand checked, but if you’re too busy…”

“Nonsense.”

She walked past them, shoving her sleeves up over her elbows, and washed her hands in the basin. After she dried them she rubbed a potion, probably some sort of sanitizer, on her hands and made her way back to them. Minho held out his bandaged hand for her, which she readily took and unraveled the bandage for herself.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” she asked, pressing lightly on the bones of his hand. Minho shook his head. “Clench your fist for me. Any pain?” He shook his head again. “It feels as though the fractures have fully healed, but if you feel any discomfort or pain come back and show me, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kibum elbowed him in the side, raising his eyebrows when Minho glanced over at him. “Oh, right! Am I good to play Quidditch? I’ve got a game next week.”

Pomfrey sighed as she smiled. “Yes, you should be just fine. Is there anything else you need?” Both of them shook their heads. “Good. Get out of here before you get catch the flu yourselves.”

“Yes, ma’am!” They said before they darted out of the infirmary.

* - * - *

- October 19, 2005 -

As the nights grew longer, an icy chill seeped into the castle walls and lingered during the day. Charms was everyone’s favorite class now, with how warm Flitwick liked to keep his classroom. The higher up, in the castle, the colder it got, so their study closet on the seventh floor was practically freezing at all times.

To combat this, Kibum and Minho smuggled more blankets and sweaters upstairs, as well as putting lit candles around them as they studied, to leech even a little bit of the warmth from the tiny flames.

Minho’s socked feet repeatedly tapped the wall beside Kibum, as he was sprawled out on the floor, wrapped up in two of the three blankets they had. Kibum shivered as he tried to focus on the etymology of healing spell they learned in Charms today. He almost had it, but his concentration was broken when Minho’s foot rested on his arm for a second and lifted when Minho murmured, “Sorry.”

He stared unamused at the back of Minho’s head when he chuckled at something that was written in the Defense textbook. Slowly, he moved away and reached into his last care package from Grandma, grabbing one of his spare quills. He took the feathered end and, checking to see that Minho wasn’t paying attention, started tickling the arch of his foot.

Minho’s toes curled and he moved his foot away for a second, and when it fell back into place, Kibum started tickling it again. He tucked his quill away under his blanket and scrambled to look like he was studying when Minho turned around to scratch his foot. As he laid back down, he pulled out their notes from Defense to look over.

When he was sure that Minho was back to studying, Kibum started to pull out the quill again, only for Minho to hurridly sit up and start smashing edge of the parchment. Kibum watched him, his eyes wide and the quill still posed to tickle Minho’s no-longer-present feet, his brow furrowing when Minho looked back at him.

“It was in the candle,” he said, holding up the now scorched edge of the parchment.

“Did we lose anything important?”

“Uh…” Minho looked back at the notes, scanning them. “Just your bearded chicken doodle.”

Kibum scoffed. “Bearded…chicken?”

Minho pursed his lips to hold back his growing smile. “What was it supposed to be?”

“A dragon.” Minho’s high-pitched laughter filled the small study closet and Kibum rolled his eyes as he started laughing himself. “Okay, can we get back to studying now, please?”

Minho nodded and grabbed his textbook before he scooted back to sit beside Kibum.

* - * - *

- October 20, 2005 -

High, high above Professor Flitwick’s podium, a piece of chalk was scratching notes on the blackboard for whatever topic the lesson would be about today. Flitwick was nowhere to be seen, as usual. He was probably still in his office putting together some sort of visual demonstration of the new spell they would be learning today.

Minho rubbed his eyes, squinting as he tried to decipher Flitwick’s cursive, and followed Kibum to their seats. “Breakable?”

“What?” Kibum, who had been getting their books out of Minho’s backpack, looked up at the blackboard when Minho nodded to it. “Unbreakable…oh.” He frowned at the blackboard before he went back to getting their things out of the backpack. “I wonder if he’s gonna talk about the Unbreakable Vow.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I’m not really sure. I heard Mom talk about it, like, once. I think one of her friends had done one.”

“Huh…”

Kibum shrugged and swirled the ink in its bottle before he set it on the desk between them. “Yeah, I don’t know. It seemed pretty serious, so I’m surprised we’re learning about it so early.”

“More of a seventh year thing?”

“Probably.”

Kibum dipped his quill in the ink, scraping the excess off on the lid, and he started to doodle in the upper right-hand corner. It didn’t look like much at first – just a few squiggles and some circles – but soon Minho was able to sort of see what Kibum might have been trying to draw.

“Are those…jellyfish?”

Sighing, Kibum dropped the quill on the parchment, ink splotching across the painting. “No, they’re the Grindylows I saw this morning in the Lacuspectio.”

“Ohhh…” Minho tilted his head to the side. “Hey, not bad!”

Kibum started to answer, but go cut off when Flitwick trotted inside, carrying a steaming, china teapot. Instead, he tried not to look too pleased with himself. Any hint of a smile fell when Flitwick dropped the teapot on the ground. Scattered gasps sounded around the classroom, followed by confused what’s when the teapot didn’t shatter but rather bounced across the ground to the base of Flitwick’s podium.

“Today we’re learning about the Unbreakable Charm!” Flitwick said, his voice as cheery as always. Minho and Kibum shared a glance before Kibum took up the quill again and Minho started flipping through The Standard Book of Spells to find the right page.

* - * - *

- October 21, 2005 -

The cloud of smoke and incense in the Divination classroom was almost suffocating. The smoke smelled like Christmas trees and the jasmine flowers Grandma kept in her greenhouse. Everyone kept sniffing and coughing, and, while it could rightly have been the rampant flu spreading through Hogwarts, Kibum thought the incense to be the most likely culprit.

“My children, please,” Professor Trelawney said, waving her arms wide from her place at the front of the classroom. She closed her eyes once everyone looked toward her. “Drain your minds of all thought, take your partner’s dominant hand, and begin your reading of their palm. When you are finished, begin to write your findings on a roll of parchment to turn in to me at the end of the period.”

Both he and Minho sighed as they turned to each other. “You wanna go first?”

Kibum’s eyebrows raised. “Reading? Or?”

“Reading.”

“Sure.” He grabbed Unfogging the Future, opening it on his lap and flipping through the pages. “Which page number did she say it was on?”

“Uh…in the 40′s, I think.”

Kibum nodded, holding out his hand for Minho’s when he found the right page. “So, your – “ he checked the book then lightly traced the middle of the three deepest lines in Minho’s palm. “Your head line…splits, which means you’re empathetic and sensitive to other people.”

Minho’s hand twitched in his. “Do you think that’s true?”

“Yeah, I do. Your heart line,” he followed the top line to where it ended in the center of Minho’s palm. “It’s short and sort of straight, which means you show your affection through actions, not words. Huh.” Also true. Time and again, Minho was there for him when he needed him, never really with advice, but rather with a listening ear and open arms.

Kibum cleared his throat, pointing to the line that curved around Minho’s thumb and went to the base of his palm. “Your life line is long, which means…you’re dependable and there for people when they need you the most.”

He let go of Minho’s hand, who then stared at his palm until he noticed that Kibum was holding out his own. “Oh, right!” He took Kibum’s hand, his fingers warm against his skin, and grabbed the open book from Kibum’s lap.

“Okay…your head line is long and curved, which means you’re a creative thinker! Which is true…your heart…hey, it’s the same as mine!” He grinned at Kibum before he looked back at his palm. “And your life line is short, which…oh, there it is. It means that when life gets hard, keeping yourself occupied makes you feel better.”

“Interesting. I wonder how true these are.”

“No clue.” Minho sighed, his shoulders slumping as he glanced over at his backpack. “I guess we should get started on our classwork.”

* - * - *

- October 22, 2005 -

Saturday mornings were the best kind of lazy, especially when Minho didn’t have to get ready for Quidditch practice as soon as he opened his eyes. Meg told the team last night that she and Richard, Ravenclaw’s captain, agreed to switch the times that they had the pitch to themselves.

It was almost noon by the time Minho crawled out of bed, and he slipped into his hoodie on his way out of his dorm, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas. The smell wafting into the common room from the kitchen was like a siren’s call to his growling stomach.

Food. He needed food.

He passed several other people who were still in their pajamas on his way up to the Great Hall, which was mostly emptied out now. Flitwick was standing at the base of the dais, shuffling through papers that Minho assumed to be sheet music. He glanced around at the sparsely populated dining hall, finding Kibum sitting beside Geoffry and Stacy from Ravenclaw.

Kibum waved him over, smirking as he looked him up and down. “Did you just wake up?”

“Maybe. What about it?” A plate of toast and eggs, fried sausages and potatoes and mushrooms, and a bowl of sliced peaches appeared before Minho as he sat beside Kibum. He slid the bowl of peaches towards him and started to eat. “How’d you sleep?” he asked between bites.

“Not bad. Oh, hey,” Minho looked up, wiping the juice from the peaches off his lips, as Kibum turned to grab something from his other side. “Geum-nan dropped this off for you and Gilbert brought it over to me.” He pulled out a cardboard box with postage taped to the top.

Minho took another bite before he pulled it over, his eyebrows shooting up. “That’s Minseok’s writing!”

His fork fell onto his plate as he ripped open the package, finding that the box was filled to the brim with Halloween candy. In the side, a note was tucked. Minho unwrapped two mini Reese’s cups and popped them into his mouth, motioning for Kibum to go ahead and take some if he wanted before he grabbed the note.

Don’t tell Mom and Dad, but I saved up my allowance and bought you this shit, because I don’t know if you get Halloween candy there. Also, I don’t know how long it takes for stuff to get to you so I’m sending this a little early.

Hope you have a happy Halloween!

Your totally awesome and cool older brother

Minho snorted, rolling his eyes as he tucked the note into his hoodie pocket, and looked up to find Kibum unraveling a purple Hershey’s kiss. “This must have been so expensive.”

“You think so?” Minho nodded, and Kibum dug around, pulling out an orange wrapped Reese’s cup. “Are these good?”

“Oh my god, yes.”

At the front of the Great Hall, Flitwick tapped his wand. “Alright, everyone, gather at the front!”

Kibum dropped the Reese’s cup in the box, patting Minho’s shoulder. “See you later, buddy,” he said before he hurried to his place in the Frog Choir.

Flitwick started talking about what they went over last practice. Every time Kibum glanced Minho’s way, he made a funny face. He grinned when Kibum almost cracked up, but stopped annoying him once they music started playing. Instead, he went back to eating as he listened to them sing. If he closed his eyes, he was able to pick Kibum’s voice out of everyone else’s.

He sounded really nice.

* - * - *

- October 23, 2005 -

Whenever it rained, there was a constant dripping that sounded down the hallway past the Slytherin house. No matter how often they searched for the sound, no one could ever find the source. Callum thought that maybe Peeves was the one who caused the original damage, but he had no proof of that.

Kibum glanced down the darkened hallway before heading to the golden light of the Hufflepuff side of the basement. He hurried down the corridor to the barricade of barrels, leaning on the sideways-turned one by the entrance.

After lunch, Kibum had told Minho he was going to take a quick nap, and now that he was up, he was ready to play chess or read some of the novels in the library or whatever Minho wanted to do, to be honest. He wasn’t really feeling that picky today.

He peeked over his shoulder at the creak of the barrel opening. “Hey, Rhesa.”

“Hi!” She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she came around and stood before him, smiling as her head tilted slightly to the side. “What’re you doing over here?”

“Waiting for Minho.” Her smile faltered, and she folded her arms over her chest. “Is he in there?”

“I haven’t seen him since lunch.”

“Oh.” Kibum pushed himself up off the barrel and started walking down the hall.

“You want me to help you?”

His brow furrowed as he smirked before he looked behind him at her. “No, I’m good.” As if he needed help to find his best friend, no matter how big the castle was. “Thanks, though.” A couple other girls joined her at the Hufflepuff entrance, and she let Kibum run off without another word to him.

Kibum jogged up the stairs, debating whether he needed to check the Great Hall or the library first, when he heard it – Minho’s unmistakable laughter. It came from down the corridor and across from the Great Hall. He started for it, turning when he reached the doorway leading out to the garden and greenhouses.

And, there Minho sat with Professor Sprout in the middle of the garden, their knees and hands muddy from weeding. Both of them were wearing clear ponchos, which looked quite like the ones that Madam Hooch kept down at the Quidditch pitch, and the rain poured around them. Sprout was still chuckling about whatever it was Minho was laughing about – which, based on what Kibum could see, was the mud that had splattered all up his front and onto his face.

Kibum smiled and glanced around at the rain as he tried to decide whether or not he wanted to venture outside in this weather or not. He made the mistake of looking back at Minho, who just noticed him standing in the doorway. “Wanna help us?”

He hated weeding. With a passion. It was his least favorite chore to do for Grandma. In fact, he’d rather clean the entire house top to bottom than spend to weed even a section of her greenhouse.

But, Minho smiled, bright even amidst the gray drizzle, and Kibum sighed.

“Sure.”

His smile grew to a grin as Kibum stepped out into the rain. “No, no, wait there! I’ll go get you a poncho!” He took a step backward, brushing the couple droplets of rain off as he watched Minho run inside Greenhouse 3.

* - * - *

- October 24, 2005 -

Morning classes were, in Minho’s unbiased opinion, the bane of his existence. What did schools, both magical and Muggle, have against letting their students sleep in until noon? Or even until they woke up naturally? And, to have science class first thing, was the worst possible scenario. Still, as true as that was (and would forever be), for the past couple of days, Minho had been looking forward to going to Potions.

This morning wasn’t any different.

He folded his arms over his chest, rubbing some warmth into them as he passed by Slytherin. The entrance to Slytherin was closed when he passed it, but he still glanced over to see if Kibum would be there, out of habit.

He wasn’t.

Hopping up the steps in the darkened hallway, Minho turned the corner and hurried down the thin corridor to the pool of warm light spilling out onto the cold stone floor. There were already a could students there, but no Slughorn – he was probably finishing his morning tea in his office. Minho set his backpack down at his favorite station, getting his textbook, parchment, and quill out and setting them on the workspace to save it.

A couple boisterous Gryffindors came inside, but Minho didn’t even bother to look over at them as he went over to the wall of shelves made into cubbies and found his cauldron and ladel. He glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder before he reached inside the cauldron to pull out the scrap of parchment he knew would be hidden inside before he started back for his workstation.

He set his cauldron up on the little rack above the candle and set the ladel aside before he flipped over the parchment, scoffing at the drawing Kibum had left him.

It all started a couple days ago, when he failed to recognize what Kibum was trying to draw. Twice. The next morning, he came into Potions to find a random scrap of parchment with Guess what I am? written on one side and what Minho thought to be a funnily drawn horse on the other tucked into his cauldron. After class, he wrote his guess down and slipped it into Kibum’s cauldron.

This morning, it looked like a weirdly long person with stringy hair. Minho wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be.

“Good morning, class,” Slughorn said as he stepped inside, and Minho tucked the parchment underneath his book. “I trust you’ve had a good morning thus far?” There were some unenthused murmurs in response, but that didn’t seem to phase the professor. Everyone started opening their books and flipping through the pages to get back to where they left off. “No, no, put away your books. Remember? You’re supposed to have the Shrinking Solution memorized by now.”

Minho huffed quietly as he set his book aside. He glanced down at the parchment again, flipping it over to the blank side and looking up at Slughorn to make sure his back was turned before he scribbled out his guess.

“Alright, why don’t you get your ingredients and get started on preparing them for the potion.” They all got up, milling over to the shelves with the ingredients to grab what they could remember. Minho stopped by the cubbies again, dropping the parchment into Kibum’s before he joined the others. “Don’t forget to chop the daisy roots finely, or else they won’t dissolve!”

It wasn’t until Herbology, their last class of the day, that Minho would find out if he was right or not. He waited outside with the other Hufflepuffs, watching the door for the Slytherins to appear on their way up from Potions. Luckily, Kibum was one of the first to show up, and Minho greeted him with a grin.

“You were close,” Kibum said, smirking somewhat smugly as he glanced around the garden.

Minho’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“You said mermaid…and it was a merperson.”

“That’s the same thing!”

Kibum snorted, his own smile blooming as he moved out of his reach and started for the greenhouse that Sprout had just opened the door to. Minho rolled his eyes, chuckling as he followed him inside.

* - * - *

- October 25, 2005 -

“…and so, in light of how popular this new game was, something needed to be done about the probable extinction of the Golden Snidget, because it was evident that wizards everywhere would not stop playing Quidditch until there were not a single one of those birds left. It wasn’t until the head of the Wizard’s Council, Elfrida Clagg, declared the Snidget to be a protected species. A substitution for the bird needed to be found, and that is where Bowman Wright, a metal-charmer, stepped in…”

Kibum’s eyes drooped closed before he shook his head to wake himself up. Again. Why was History of Magic so boring? He glanced over at Minho to find him nodding off as well. Sighing, he sat up and tucked his feet underneath him as he sat back down.

One of them had to stay awake and take notes, Kibum had just assumed it would be Minho when Binns said that they’d be talking about Quidditch today. Whatever, it was fine. Minho mentioned before Charms started that he had had trouble sleeping last night, so he needed his rest.

“…there were several prototypes that proceeded the Snitch we know today, and it wasn’t until the March of 1384, almost a full year after Wright began his project, that the Snitch was approved as the replacement for the Golden Snidget.”

Kibum smiled when Minho leaned over, resting his head on Kibum’s shoulder. He stretched his arm out a little, hopefully making his shoulder a little more comfortable for Minho. The class dragged on and on, Kibum’s hand was aching by the time the bell rang to dismiss them. Minho didn’t start to wake up until the other students were packing up their things to head to lunch.

He sat up, blinking slowly as the others were moving around them on their way out the door. “Sorry…”

Kibum rolled up their notes with a frown. “For what?”

“Um…” He held his backpack open for Kibum to pack up their stuff. “I don’t know.” He yawned as he tried to fasten the top.

“Well, I forgive you, for whatever it was.” He glanced over and smiled at Minho’s sleepy grin. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Kibum untucked his legs and moved to stand, but he grabbed the desk to keep his balance. “What’s wrong?”

Both his legs, from the knees down, were completely numb. He wiggled his toes as the prickly sensation slowly overtook the numbness. “Shit…” Kibum sat back down, rubbing some feeling back into his legs.

“Were you sitting on your legs again?”

“…maybe.”

Minho sighed as he plopped down beside him. “I still don’t understand why you do that.”

“It’s comfortable!” Minho rolled his eyes as he turned toward him. “Like, in the moment, it is.”

“Sure, okay.” Kibum scoffed at the sarcasm in Minho’s voice and stamped his foot on the ground. The prickly sensation was blessedly gone. “You good to go?”

“Yup!”

* - * - *

- October 26, 2005 -

“Okay, so everyone,” Professor Sprout said, effectively quieting the class before they got too rowdy. “Split up into pairs, and start harvesting the dried nettles. Make sure you’re wearing gloves.”

Gilbert raised his hand, and she nodded to him. “We’re saving the actual nettles, right?” She nodded again. “What about the stalks?”

“Set aside the stalks for the kitchen to make nettle soup.” Kibum patted Minho’s knee before he got up to grab the vials, tweezers, and one of the bundles of nettles that had been drying for the past month in Greenhouse 4. Minho reached across the table, grabbing two pairs of gloves to protect their hands.

He handed a pair to Kibum as he returned, dumping all the things onto the table before them. “That’s so weird, making soup out of nettles.”

“I’ve had it.” Minho glanced over at him, his eyebrows shooting up. “It’s not bad. Neither is nettle tea, and Grandma says nettle wine is pretty good, so…”

“What does it taste like?”

Kibum pulled a couple of nettle stings, dropping them into the glass vial. “Kinda like…spicy grass.” Minho coughed, laughing, and pushed himself away from the table. “What? That’s what it tasted like!” Kibum said, giggling himself. Both sobered up quickly when Sprout cleared her throat.

They went back to plucking the stings, Minho shaking his to settle them to see how many he had so far. “There’s not very many.”

“It’s just one stalk, though,” Kibum said, discarding his now cleaned stalk in the center of the table before reaching for another one from the bundle.

“Don’t we need these for potions?”

Kibum hummed, nodding. “The Boil-Cure is the only one I can think of at the moment, but I know there’s more.”

They were quiet for a moment, concentrated on getting as many done before class as they could. When Minho finished his third, he dropped his tweezers on the table and stretched his hand out in front of him. “There was this nettle bush behind our house in Korea.” Kibum glanced over at him before he went back to plucking. “Jinki – that’s my friend – “

“You’ve mentioned him.”

“Yeah, anyways, Jinki and I were playing in the backyard with Minseok one day, hide and seek, if I remember right.”

Kibum set his tweezers down, massaging his hand, as Minho picked his back up. “Oh, no, did he hide in the nettles?”

Minho shook his head. “Yeah, no, he tripped and fell into them. We had to help him get out so we got stung, too. The next day, my dad went out and got rid of it, so at least there’s that.”

“At least. Were you guys okay?”

“No. We all died.” Kibum snorted, smacking Minho’s arm. They both glanced over at Professor Sprout, who was inspecting the vial that Candace brought to her. “Come on, we’re almost done.” He shook his head, still smiling, and Minho grinned as he picked up the last stalk from their bunch.

* - * - *

- October 27, 2005 -

Nighttime at Hogwarts was usually a peaceful experience. The creaks of the old castle were the loudest sounds followed by the occasional sparks from the torches lining the halls. Most everyone was tucked away in their common rooms, doing whatever they wanted while they waited for light’s out. It was usually Kibum’s favorite time of day – he enjoyed the serenity and the chance to hang out with just Minho.

It was nice.

Tonight, however, there was a thunderstorm.

He had seen the storm clouds forming in the enchanted ceiling during dinner, and since then, he had been dreading the inevitable first thunderclap. It came once he and Minho were up in their study closet, rumbling around them. Kibum pulled his blanket a little tighter around him as he glanced at the walls, making sure that they weren’t about to crumble down around them.

That was one nice thing about living in the basement here at Hogwarts: when storms came, most of the time you wouldn’t even know.

Kibum took a deep breath once the night grew quiet again and went back to looking over his notes from Transfiguration. Minho sat beside him, his feet peeking out of the bottom of their shared blanket. He turned the page of his Defense textbook and looked up when the thunder roared again.

“Woah!” His eyes were bright with excitement when he looked over at Kibum. “It’s so…hey, you okay?”

“Yeah…” The thunder died down again, and Kibum smoothed the roll of parchment on his lap. “Yeah, I’m fine…it’s just louder up here.”

“We can stop for the night, if you want.” Kibum shook his head and Minho went back to reading, glancing over at him again whenever the thunder sounded again. After the third time, Minho started packing up his stuff.

“What are you doing?”

“We don’t have any tests tomorrow, so we don’t really have to study.”

“Yeah, but…” He gulped when the thunder clapped again and shivered when Minho took their blanket and started folding it up. “It’s really not a big deal, Min…”

Minho passed him his stack of textbooks, sighing when he didn’t take it right away. “Come on, Bummie.” Kibum was about to protest, but then the thunder sounded again. He took them and Minho blew the candles out as soon as Kibum opened the door.

It didn’t take them long to get to the basement, and Kibum let out a deep breath as soon as they stepped into the cool air of the basement. Minho patted his back, offering him a smile before he headed down the hall toward Hufflepuff. “Hey,” Minho stopped, looking over his shoulder at him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

* - * - *, 

- October 28, 2005 -

Minho coughed, the hazy air of the Divination classroom tickling his throat. He readjusted his hold on Kibum’s hand, squinting at the lines in his palm and fingers.

“This is so boring,” Kibum murmured, and Minho sniffed in amusement.

At the table behind them, Seb leaned forward, whispering, “Do you think we should try distracting her again? It worked well enough last time.”

“What with, though?”

Seb leaned back, raising his hand to get Trelawney’s attention, while Minho and Kibum hunched back over. “Yes, my child?” she asked, her low and airy voice loud in the silence of the classroom.

“A couple weeks ago, you mentioned the gift of sight, but like, what does that mean?”

She let out a long sigh. “It’s often confused with intuition, or at least that’s the Muggle terminology for it. The gift of sight is something you feel in your soul, when you can close your eyes and see far into the future. Back in ancient Greece, seers – namely women – were called oracles, and they were far more respected than we are in this day in age. In fact – “

Seb leaned forward again. “You’re welcome.”

Kibum stretched and yawned, sitting back in his armchair as he started to doze off, and Minho scooted his ottoman closer to Kibum’s chair, leaning against the side. He didn’t fall asleep, but he zoned out as she rambled on and on about a specific oracle…Pythia? Whatever, as long as she was talking about this, she wasn’t assigning them any homework.

She went on past the ringing of the bell announcing the end of the period. Was she ranting about fake seers who give real seers a bad reputation? Minho shook Kibum’s shoulder, rousing him before he started to pack up their things.

“Oh,” she blinked, her eyes unusually large in her thick glasses. “Is it already that time?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Travis said, looking over at Seb and giving him a thumbs-up when she turned her back on the class.

“Ah, I seem to have lectured for too long again today, my apologies, dear children. We’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday, alright? You may go,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“No homework?” Kibum mouthed to Minho, who shook his head. They grinned as they followed the rest of the class to the trapdoor.

* - * - *

- October 29, 2005 -

The door to the Great Hall opened and closed, and Kibum and the rest of the Frog Choir looking down at Professor Flitwick as he walked toward them. “Ready?” Several of the others nodded, and Kibum gulped. “We’re on in one minute.”

Today was the first time the Frog Choir was performing in front of the whole school. To say he was nervous was a bit of an understatement. One of the toads behind Kibum croaked, Kibum jumping at the sound.

Stacy tapped his shoulder. “What’s the song order again?”

“Uh, Double Trouble, Prifma, and, uh, Pulsatione Campane.”

“Just those three?” Kibum nodded. “Right, we aren’t ready with In Noctem yet.”

Before he could respond, the door opened again and Flitwick snapped his fingers. Everyone found the place in the line and followed him out into the Great Hall. Kibum could feel each and every pair of eyes watching them as they walked out to stand in their formation before the dais. He searched the tables for Minho but couldn’t find him before Flitwick raised his wand.

Kibum shook his tambourine in time with the other handheld percussion instruments, steading his breathing before it was time for them to sing. Double Trouble was a classic Hogwarts song and the first song they memorized as a group. Prifma was sung partially in English and Latin, and Pulsantione Campane was sung entirely in Latin. It took them forever to memorize the Latin lyrics, but Flitwick seemed proud of them, so it was worth it.

His throat was completely dry by the time they finished singing. Flitwick gestured to the back room with his wand, and Kenneth led the back row off the dais. In the few seconds he had before he turned to leave, Kibum scanned the Hufflepuff table, finding Minho easily now that he was one of the only ones standing as he clapped. Kibum grinned as he turned to leave with the others.

“Good job, everyone,” Flitwick said once the door was closed behind him. Kibum set the tambourine away as the others did the same with their toads, ravens, and drums. “Remember, no practice next Saturday, since we’ll be going to Hogsmeade again.” He waved them out of the room as he opened the door to the Great Hall again. “Go on now, enjoy your dinner!”

“Yes, sir!”

They filed back into the Great Hall and found their places at their tables, standing out in their robes among the sea of weekend casual clothes. Kibum sat down by Analecia, glancing across the table at Aaron and Callum. “What’d you guys think?”

All three of them were trying not to smile, which was concerning, but not as concerning as the guy next to him throwing his arm over his shoulder unexpectedly. "Hey!” Kibum tried to shove his arm off, but stopped when he started to laugh. Minho? He looked over at him, surprised that he hadn’t noticed his best friend was sitting beside him. “What...what are you doing over here?”

“I came to tell you that you did well!” Minho said as he dropped his arm from Kibum’s shoulder.

“Thanks! You didn’t have to...”

“Of course I did.” Kibum started dishing himself up some dinner, and Minho reached across the table to grab a fresh roll. “So, how was your day?”

* - * - *

- October 30, 2005 -

The chill of the gray-sky seeped into Minho’s bones as he sat high above the Quidditch pitch on his broomstick. He shivered, glancing back over to where Kibum stood in the stands.

“Ready?” Kibum called out, and Minho waved in response. A second later, a golden walnut shot across the field and Minho dove to catch it. He pocketed it, pushing off the ground when Kibum threw the next one in the opposite direction. Once he had caught all three, he flew up to where Kibum was and dug the walnuts out of his hoodie pocket. “How many more rounds?”

“Not sure,” he said, shoving away from the stands to go back to the center of the arena.

Minho kept going until his knuckles were red and his teeth were chattering and the sky began to drizzle. He flew back up to Kibum once he caught the last walnut, handing them over before he started to fly away again. Only...he jolted forward instead of backward when Kibum grabbed hold of his broomstick and holding him there.

“What.”

“Minho, come on, let’s go inside.” He frowned and tried to push Kibum’s hand off his broom, and when that didn’t work, he reached for the walnuts, only to have Kibum shove them into his pocket. “Come on, you’re ready. You’re cold, I’m cold, let’s go get hot cocoa or something.”

He shivered again, refusing to meet Kibum’s eyes. “Just one more round.”

“You said that two rounds ago.” Kibum held his hand up when Minho started to protest. “You’re ready, okay? You can only practice so much, you know?”

“...yeah.”

Kibum reached out, placing his warm hand over Minho’s cold one. “You’re gonna do great tomorrow. Win or lose, I know you’ll do your best.”

“I guess that’s true.”

Kibum squeezed his hand before he let go of his broomstick. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” Minho nodded before he left Kibum and flew down to the pitch, running to the Hufflepuff hallway once he hit the ground.

* - * - *

- October 31, 2005 -

The excited chatter of the Hufflepuffs carried all throughout the Great Hall, even over the din of the other tables. Kibum smiled at the sound, cutting off a bite of his pumpkin spice cake. He was excited for them -- well, Minho mostly, of course. It meant a lot to him to win that Quidditch game, more than a lot, and Kibum could only imagine the weight that was lifted off of Minho’s shoulders and the utter relief he must be feeling right now.

Kibum glanced across the Great Hall to where Minho usually sat, finding it empty. He sighed, and went back to eating his cake.

It didn’t seem fair that Minho was stuck in the infirmary, probably listening to the Halloween feast and wishing he could join in. Kibum licked his fork clean of the cream cheese frosting once he finished his cake, looking back across the Great Hall. After a second of thought, Kibum grabbed a new for and another slice of cake, pushing away from the table.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

Analecia and Aaron nodded and Callum waved at him as he left the table. He headed down the torch-lit corridor to the infirmary, cautiously stepping inside. Minho was the only one inside, eating his own personal Halloween feast. Surround him were bags and packages from Hogsmeade, presumably bought for him by his teammates.

Kibum stopped a couple strides inside, feeling sort of stupid standing there with his plate of cake for Minho. But then, Minho looked up, his smile bright when he saw Kibum. “Hey! How’s the feast?”

“It’s as good as it is every year,” he said as he went over Minho’s bed, sitting on the side. “Thought you might like some cake.”

Minho set his almost-empty plate of food down on the side table. “That is the one thing Pomfrey didn’t bring me.” Kibum chuckled, handing the cake to Minho.

“How are you feeling, buddy?”

“Good,” Minho said around his mouthful of cake. “Really good.”

“What about your ankle?”

“It hurts a bit, but...I don’t know, I feel like it’s worth it. I’m just sorry you couldn’t go to Hogsmeade today. I know you were re -- “

“Minho.” He took a deep breath, relaxing into his pillow. “Don’t feel bad. It’s not like this was our one chance to go.”

He nodded, cutting off another bite of cake. “I know.”

“Besides, there’s gonna be another trip this Saturday.” Minho’s eyebrows shot up as he wiped a bit of frosting off his lip, and Kibum grabbed one of the packages from Hogsmeade. “Based off what they got you, where do you think we should go first?”

“Zonko’s! Oh, wait, maybe Honeydukes!”

[sandythereadingcafe]

COVER REVEAL The Dating Series #1-6 Authors: Heidi McLaughlin & L.P. Dover Genre: Contemporary Romance Cover Design: Shari Ryan, MadHat Studios

#1 A Date for Midnight – Releasing April 28 New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Heidi McLaughlin and L.P. Dover come together for a sexy new series that delivers romance for every season! It's New Year's Eve and Natalie has a rare night off from her shifts at the hospital. Determined to have fun with friends, she stops at a local store for provisions.  There, amongst the craft beer and pork rinds, she comes face to face with her high school boyfriend, Brennan McLean. He's a rockstar. She's a nurse. To say life led them in different directions would be putting it mildly. Still, time hasn't lessened the electric chemistry between them. By the end of the night more was dropping than just the ball.  Convincing herself she could have fun without getting attached, Natalie treats herself to a weekend tangled in the sheets with him. But that lie she told herself pops faster than champagne bubbles.  With media rumors swirling around Brennan, can the pair find a way to make their unlikely relationship work? Or will Natalie's resolution not to get her heart broken meet a painful end? GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52117782-a-date-for-midnight PRE-ORDER LINKS – only 99c! US: https://amzn.to/3cp3R3a UK: https://amzn.to/2RmKHTD CA: https://amzn.to/2JRHkA0 AU: https://amzn.to/3e5QJSm

•••••••••••• #2 A Date with an Admirer – Releasing May 19 New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Heidi McLaughlin and L.P. Dover come together for a sexy new series that delivers romance for every season! February is the month of love, but not for Sophie. One week before Valentine's Day, she learns her boyfriend of two years has been cheating on her with one of his dental hygienists.  As much as she wants to erase any trace of him from her life, she has no choice but to face him and his new squeeze at a huge Valentine's Day bash that has fast become the social event of the season. No way is she going alone. What she needs is a beautiful hunk of arm candy... STAT.  Sophie's best friend, Ellie, proposes the perfect solution to her dilemma. Her brother Tanner, the smokin' hot surfer, just got back into town and is more than happy to help Sophie prove she's over her scumbag ex.  What starts as an act between Sophie and Tanner quickly swells into more. It doesn't take long before Sophie finds herself wanting to ride more than just waves with the toned and tanned hottie. But when passion crashes over the pair, Sophie fears she's putting her friendship with Ellie at risk.  Can Tanner convince her to give their love a chance? Or will the bonds of friendship repel Cupid's arrow? GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52117811-a-date-with-an-admirer PRE-ORDER LINKS – only 99c! US: https://amzn.to/3etGcQY UK: https://amzn.to/2JYMnyt CA: https://amzn.to/3a42NAn AU: https://amzn.to/2V2POe4

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•••••••••••••• #4 A Date for the Hunt – Releasing June 30 Allison Wood is single and not looking to mingle. Unfortunately, her sister, Erin, doesn't take no for an answer. As the producer of a new reality TV show, that turns a traditional Easter egg hunt into a dating show, Erin believes her sister would be a perfect contestant and secures her a spot.  Instead of cozying up at home and biting the ears off a chocolate bunny, Allison finds herself in Aruba hiding an egg while America watches. She could have been paired up with a slew of other guys. But who does fate match her with? Sexy fireman Hudson Bryant, who happens to be the same guy that made Allison's high school years miserable.  Go on a dating show, they said. It'll be fun, they said.  When viewers learn of their history, the pair instantly become a fan favorite. Everyone is eager to see how their story will unfold. For the good of the show, Allison agrees to play nice with the former jock... for now.  Can Hudson make amends for the past and crack through Allison's hard candy shell to her cream-filled center? Or will her time with him leave a bitter, black jelly bean taste in Allison's mouth? GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52117850-a-date-for-the-hunt PRE-ORDER LINKS – only 99c! US: https://amzn.to/2Kb3Dke UK: https://amzn.to/2JYN0rP CA: https://amzn.to/2XrKKBg AU: https://amzn.to/2VfDmGo

••••••••••••• #5 A Date for the Derby – Releasing July 21 For Brielle Armstrong the pomp and circumstance of the days leading up to the Kentucky Derby are truly the most thrilling time of the year. Press junkets, designer gowns, everyone schmoozing her in hopes of getting in her daddy's good graces. What's not to love?   But this year, her heart is racing with anticipation to see Colby Hensley. As a former trainer of her family's champion horses, his rugged sex appeal has always filled Brielle's mind with naughty thoughts of a little barebacked fun.   Even though Colby walked away from their farm, her father Butch, would never approve of him. But what daddy doesn't know can't hurt him. If their secret comes out, it could cost Brielle everything. Still, what fun is life if you don't ride it at a gallop? Grab your riding crop, and place your bets. It's Derby Day! GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52117884-a-date-for-the-derby PRE-ORDER LINKS – only 99c! US: https://amzn.to/34IjUGX UK: https://amzn.to/2K0Aybg CA: https://amzn.to/3b39DY7 AU: https://amzn.to/2RqAaXB

••••••••••••• #6 A Date to Play Fore – Releasing August 11 Tee up for the long drive, it's golf season!   After winning the U.S. Open, Greyson Jennings couldn't help but take playful jabs at the expense of his prime competition, Bryan Nelson. His snarky claims during the press junction may have burned off like fog on the green, if a week later they hadn't found themselves at the same golf resort.   Hungry for a little payback, Bryan challenges Greyson to a grudge match: Grey and his best friend versus Bryan and his sister, Leah. Turns out, Leah is a ringer with a swing—and curves—that turn Grey's thoughts to a hole in one of another kind.   Unfortunately, Leah's opinion of him has been formed by the many stories Bryan has shared. That may hurt this golfer's handicap, but he's nowhere near ready to give up. It's game on as Leah agrees to meet Grey on the green and go head to head with the hole as the goal.   Can Greyson prove there's more to him than an impressive club and a carefully crafted bad boy persona? Or will the sting of Leah's rejection leave him in need of some alone time and a good ball washer? GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52117907-a-date-to-play-fore PRE-ORDER LINKS – only 99c! US:https://amzn.to/34ErJNK UK: https://amzn.to/2V1LBXX CA: https://amzn.to/3aYsC62 AU: https://amzn.to/3b2Ca03

•••••••••• AUTHOR BIOS & LINKS Heidi McLaughlin Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of The Beaumont Series, The Boys of Summer, and The Archers. Originally, from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband, two daughters, and their three dogs. In 2012, Heidi turned her passion for reading into a full-fledged literary career, writing over twenty novels, including the acclaimed Forever My Girl. When writing isn't occupying her time, you can find her sitting courtside at either of her daughters' basketball games. Heidi's first novel, Forever My Girl, has been adapted into a motion picture with LD Entertainment and Roadside Attractions, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe, and opened in theaters on January 19, 2018. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHeidiMcLaughlin Twitter: https://twitter.com/HeidiJoVT Website: http://www.heidimclaughlin.com Newsletter:  http://bit.ly/HeidiNews Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/heidimclaughlinauthor Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6568302.Heidi_McLaughlin Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Heidi-McLaughlin/e/B00AV872O8 L.P. Dover New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Everything's sweeter in the South has always been her mantra and she lives by it, whether it's with her writing or in her everyday life. Maybe that's why she's seriously addicted to chocolate. Dover has written countless novels in several different genres, including a children's book with her daughter. Her favorite to write is romantic suspense, but she's also found a passion in romantic comedy. She loves to make people laugh which is why you'll never see her without a smile on her face. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lpdover Facebook Group: http://bit.ly/2hlE3vs Website: http://www.lpdover.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/LPDover Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6526309.L_P_Dover Amazon: http://amzn.to/1onBUPK Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/LPDover Email: authorlpdover@gmail.com Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/EbduX Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2eXg0o2 GIVEAWAY There is a giveaway for a $100 Amazon gift card Direct Link: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/eef4ee4b1791

[icewindandboringhorror]

Daily Log 5

Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.

Activities: Not much, I had to run errands most of the day and also felt incredibly tired, probably because the cats woke me up like 4 times last night begging for food and things. Overly warm and headachey a lot.

I planted a few new flowers, and pressed more flowers and clovers in my Large Sturdy Flower Pressing Book as well.

Actually worked on translating the text for the previously mentioned tapestry/painting thing. I think I've decided that it doesn't really matter very much, because nobody else even knows anything about this conlang except for me, so they won't know if it's wrong lol.. It is not entirely completed after all (complete enough to translate most simple sentences into consistently, but also there are a few spots here and there where I haven't fully worked out the way some part of speech actually functions or etc., or I wrote down one thing that later contradicts something else, so occasionally I reach a sentence that I'm not sure exactly which rule to follow to translate, and I need to do a larger comprehensive organization of the document to work out all the kinks and declare officially like 'THIS is the ONE way this is done' etc. etc.) - so because of that, I think I'll just kind of 'do my best' and if the rules now end up changing in the future as I further work on the language, then, that's fine, because nobody can read it anyway lol. Kind of like that song on my side music youtube that's sung in genuine Avirrekava lyrics but also I wrote them years ago and some of the sentences have now become outdated/invalid.

Washed and cleaned some kale so it will be dry for me to maybe make silly kale chips tomorrow.

Final proofreading + posting of the poll adventure thing.

eughh,, literally nothing else.. I hate running errands because it always makes me feel drained and sick after, plus I get nothing else done all day except for just going places. I know checking my p.o. box and picking up cat food and stuff is technically still a productive action, but it just feels like.. i should be getting all of my long term projects done instead lol.. what about the videos?? or worldbuilding?? what does grocery shopping have to do with elves??!?! >:V (aside from pretending to be a group of fantasy creatures evaluating produce having an imaginary conversation with yourself at the store ghghj,, but that is not productive either lol)

Notable sights: Found 13 four leaf clovers, and 2 five leaf clovers, though one of them is almost a 6 leaf (like one of the leaves is nearly split all the way into a sort of heart shape, just not entirely). Also two of the clovers are HUGE, probably the biggest 4 leaf clovers I've ever collected, like 2 inches across maybe. The sky was very pretty a lot with big fluffy white clouds. Not a 'sight' really, but I got to sit in air conditioning for a little while today and it was very nice. I love the cold crisp kind of stale air smell, like walking into a freezer or something (which I used to do when I was a kid, I would sneak into a walk-in freezer at a school cafeteria and just sit there for a while lol), it's comforting to me.

Goals moving forward: Consistent sleep schedule. Focus on social activities, finding new friends in the places I want to move, communicating with ones I have. Physical therapy exercises. Plant nasturtiums. Finish and upload videos, edit costume pictures & etc. Do the new costumes I've planned. MAKE SCULPTURES at some point, I miss them.

Notable foods: Had a bit of smoked gouda and green onions in my Mandated Completely Plain Flavorless Grits For Breakfast this morning, as a littol treat lol.. Tried a 'biscoff' ice cream bar, which is generally a flavor profile I like, but I think I would usually rather be eating a cookie than having ice cream. Also an Ensure nutritional drink, which I know most people consider gross but I genuinely like them.. maybe it's like a source of comfort when my stomach is too sick to eat, like 'oh well at least I can have this cold smooth textured chalky chocolate thing' lol.

Sort of like how I have positive conditioning to feel safe/comfortable in bathrooms (due to it usually being one of the only places you can safely retreat from a social situation or get out of crowds in public areas, etc.), even though rationally I have no particular reason to like bathrooms much, and most people dislike public bathrooms especially. Fellow public bathroom and ensure nutritional shake lovers unite! (3 of us in the entire world)