#hm. well maybe ill talk to my mom and see what we can do? once im camping ill be fine anyways.

[yuukei-yikes]

your kenjirou fanfic made me curious... what are your hcs for haruka's dad?

TY FOR READING IT :D erm erm let me link the fanfic again. maybe i can tempt someone to read it. i wrote a little about haruka's dad in there😳 bur also bc i will be talking abt it in this post heh

SURPRISINGLY i dont have a super concrete headcanon for haruka's dad? i see the consensus is that He Sucks and He's Awful and another hc ive seen a lot is he HATES takane because SHE MAKES HARUKA WANNA LIVE😩😩😩... which is kinda funny to me.

i dont think mr kokonose hates takane. i dont think he knows she exists! i think he spent so little time with haruka and even less time actually chatting with him he would've never met takane or even heard about her a lot. he probably knows haruka has one classmate and has probably heard her name but i doubt he'd care to remember it. another thing abt haruka's dad hating takane bc She Makes Him Wanna Live.. i dont think he'd KNOW about haruka's pain and how much he wants to live. he never spent time with haruka or talked with him to know him so personally, especially since haruka was in denial and doesn't even admit to himself he's desperate to live until he's in his last months of life.

about the general idea haruka's dad is an asshole. well... ITS PRETTY MUCH IN TEXT. haruka describes him as an offbeat guy who plays life straight and narrow and never jokes around. also the kind of person who can tell a 10 year old boy who just lost his mom "Hey ur also gonna die in a few years" lol. so yeah probably not the Best guy around

haruka's "whatever" attitude (ive talked abt this in another post i know sorry im repeating) i think comes a lot from his dad?? like since his dad acts Whatever about everything + his illness especially, haruka also learned to be like that. it's pretty much the only reference he has and the only coping tool he can find. so haruka represses his feelings and feels like he has no right to say them out loud. for example when he realises he's in love with takane. he says "i feel i have no right to say it". that has something to do with haruka being conditioned to believe nothing he feels or does matters, because he's just gonna die soon anyway.

it's also said mr kokonose became Weird once haruka's mother passed. i was never a fan of this detail because... hm... scientist dad becomes cold and distant after mother passes away because he just loved her So Much........ why does that sound familiar?

jin i respect u for writing men so deeply in love with their wives but there's too much repetition there with the tateyama parents. like girl.... personally, I'd rather imagine haruka's dad like he's Always been a weird distant guy. in fact not only that but i headcanon his mother was like this as well. i think it's easy to hc the mom to be as cheerful and nice as haruka since we know exactly nothing about her personality, but idk why i enjoy the hc where both of haruka's parents were kind of cold and not very affectionate people in the first place. and when the mom passes, haruka's dad kinda goes No Contact. it just adds to haruka being so desperate for any kind of connection with people LOL like my guy doesn't even THINK of his dad when he's dying

these are one of haruka's dying thoughts 😭😭😭 like HE JUST. DJFDKFKRKFK SORRY ITS A LITTLE FUNNY HE MENTIONS KENJIROU AND NOT HIS DAD‼️‼️‼️ dont get me started on kenjirou and haruka's father/son relationship (will get started)

ok haruka's dad works at research labs. in the fanfic i wrote i also made it to be like. he researches diseases and vaccines and shit. i think he'd do that kinda job. and i think it's very much motivated by his family. and since he did that kinda job he knew how hopeless haruka was, especially after the passing of the mom. mr kokonose being like welp. might as well crush his hopes before they even exist👍 like maybe he feels like he's doing some good by preparing haruka for the truth lol ...and maybe haruka's dad technique is like erm. i was already sad my wife died so ill keep distance from haruka so i dont get sad again 👍 so its rather a selfish move on his part to tell that to haruka. like i dont wanna dad u anymore this shit sucks

like i said i dont have a concrete hc i honestly do kinda enjoy the idea of haruka's dad just not giving a fuck about him LMAOOO BUT for the sake of answering, the way i wrote it in the fanfic was different.

the fanfic is about kenjirou. so when i wrote abt harukas dad it was more about kenjirou and haruka's bond than about haruka and his dad. like since earlier in the fanfic kenjirou has that convo with haruka and takane where haruka realises he's trying to admit his role in their deaths and haruka kinda asks him like. PLEASE JUST LIE LIKE I DONT WANNA KNOW. and kenjirou isnt even able to lie for their sake. it really broke haruka's heart and ruins his (and takane's) image of kenjirou. so when i wrote the bit abt haruka's dad later on, i wanted it to be more about... kenjirou knowing just how much of a bad dad mr kokonose is, particularly because kenjirou played a father figure for haruka in the past. yet he fails him so so badly. not only that but kenjirou is so focused/depressed about kano refusing to speak to him at the moment. so when he finds out mr kokonose is Apparently managing a bond with haruka, kenjirou is like AUUGGGGHH because this OTHER dad he once considered a bad dad is doing better than him. kenjirou fucked up his bond with haruka AND kano. thats kinda what i was trying to do there, idk if i did it succesfully LOL i also think he and kenjirou should be old man yaoi together bc it'd be funny. anyways moving on

yeah i think haruka and his dad would be in each others lives post str. i also think it'd be DEEPLY awkward for both of them its definitely NOT the father/son bonding of all time. lol. they see each other not super often and when they do it's not that cool. since its mentioned haruka's dad plays life Straight and Narrow he isn't super excited abt haruka's poor excuses about where he's been, why is he not dead/dying anymore and WHAT DO YOU MEAN ur drawing for a living WHAT DOES THAT MEAN‼️‼️‼️ so haruka probably. doesn't visit a lot❤️ but maybe haruka gifts him a painting and despite his dad doesnt understand how the hell haruka's paying rent he still puts the painting up. and haruka sees the painting is on the wall next time he visits and while neither says anything, haruka's thankful for the acknowledgment and his dad likes the painting and appreciates the gift. i think that's as tender as they can get lol.

erm erm haruka's dad doesn't know how to deal with this unexpected turn of events like. his dead kid just suddenly showed up again. whats a cringe old man to do?

in the fanfic i also wrote it like he kinda thought takane was cool bc she had a more stable job than haruka LMAOOOO that was sorta just a callout to what i talked abt earlier, since a popular hc says mr kokonose would dislike takane. so i was like you know what. lets make it he likes her better than haruka (<- my insane need to make everyone love takane)

quick takane mention please let me mention takane. i think haruka would refuse to bring takane to meet his dad bc seeing his dad is just so. emotionally draining and doesn't want her to sit through that and he's also probably like. passive aggressive a lot and haruka knows takane would kill the guy. sooo yeah. eventually theyd obviously meet and it is as painful as one can imagine bc mr kokonose probably googled what to say and is treating meeting your son's girlfriend like its a job interview. haruka and takane walk out of there in Shock. but yeah he likes her in his own weird way

conclusion: i wrote abt it mostly because of kenjirou. i agree haruka's dad is probably a dickhead but he could be a funny one too👍

[pizzapizzadickz]

Mn. I really wanna leave and go somewhere. If I wasn't terrified of most bugs I probably would instantly. But where?

[folklorelise]

That one time the kids called you “mom”

HC / OS (i don’t know) about that one time the kids called you “mom” and that one-time Jean called Captain Levi “dad” (not related with the “being a mom to the survey corps” -- you’re a squad leader in this).

 -          Armin

Armin was a smart kid and he loved spending time at the survey corps library. Armin grew up with his grandfather and he had to work very hard to provide enough food for the both of them. When Armin’s grandfather died, he was still a kid. When they all joined the survey corps, Armin instantly loved you – you would always be in the library, reading different books every week. He obviously wanted to come to you and talk about books with you, but that boy was too shy. You were a squad leader which meant that you were his superior officer.

You would notice Armin of course. He would always read and study strategies sitting in front of you. Sometimes he would open his mouth, thinking ‘today I’ll talk to her’ but he never did. Once you decided that you would start the conversation, but as soon as you put your book down, Armin ran away. After that, you told Levi, your boyfriend, what happened earlier.

“I think he’s scared of me.” You admitted.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Why did he run away then?”

“Maybe he needed to take a sh!t. Like really needed to so he ran away.”

Meanwhile in Armin’s bedroom, with Eren and Mikasa.

“Why did you do that?” Mikasa asked.

“I don’t know!” Armin inquired, “I’m so embarrassed right now.”

“That was a weird move.” Eren admitted, “Next time just say something, anything really.”

That very next day, Armin was determined to tell you how much he wanted to discuss books with you. He saw you at your usual place and he took his. He repeated his sentence over and over, ‘squad leader Y/N I’ve seen you here multiple times and I’d like to discuss books together.’ But before he could say anything, you started to talk.

“Why did you run off yesterday?” you asked.

“Books.” Armin shouted which only startled you a little, “I like books and you do too.”

“I do like to read.”

After that, Armin was more and more comfortable around you. You would always read together before an expedition or after an intense training day – it became your little tradition.

A few weeks later, Armin wanted to talk to you as soon as possible. He has read a book that he knew you would like, and he needed to tell you about it. He was eating with his friends and when he saw you and Captain Levi entering the mess hall, he shouted “MOM! I-“and stopped immediately after.

Everyone was staring at him and all Armin wanted at this moment was to be eaten by a titan. You on the other side were just smiling widely at Armin.

“You look like a creep, stop smiling.” Levi told you.

After dinner, you went to the library and found Armin sitting at your usual table, arms crossed on the table with his head on his arms.

“Armin, hey. How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed. I – I don’t know why I called you that.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to worry about it.” you reassured him.

“But I embarrassed you too!”

“Who said you did?”

“Everyone was laughing.” Armin guessed.

Then, you spend your night like you always do which is reading together until Levi came to bring you back to bed.

“Good night Armin.” Levi told him before leaving.

“Good night Captain, squad leader.”

“Good night… son.” you finished before joining Levi, laughing slightly.

 —————

-          Eren

Eren was outside with all the others resting after training with Levi. They were discussing their skills after Levi made them do hand to hand combat to know who could have a day off from cleaning duties (it was your idea – Levi would never give a day off for cleaning).

“I am obviously the best here.” Jean acknowledged.

“Mikasa won against you!” Eren screamed back.

“Yeah, but I’m talking about us. Today, I won!” Jean replied.

“That’s because I was too tired from the titan experiments!”

“Riight. You are a titan. You shouldn’t even be tired!”

“Yeah because you know everything!” Eren shouted even louder.

Both were ready to fight, but they were expecting their friends to stop them, but they were just talking between them, ignoring their little dispute. Both of them just stared at each other, waiting for something to happen or someone but nothing – so they just stared at each other awkwardly. Eren spotted you not too far away and screamed at the top of his lungs:

“MOM! WE NEED YOUR HELP!”

You were taking a walk with Levi as one of your rituals with him since during daytime, you could hardly see each other. You both looked at Eren surprised but still walked towards him and his friends.

“Yes? What did you need me for?”

“Eren said he was better than me at hand-to-hand combat which is obviously not true.” Jean explained.

“You agree with me, right?” Eren said to you.

“Hm…” you turned to Levi expecting help, but he just had a smirk on his face, waiting for you answer too. “Well… I mean…” you paused each time a word was said, “I just want to say that I love you guys but it’s late and I’m tired,” you tried to avoid the topic of the conversation. “Levi, let’s leave the kids.”

“But m-“ Eren suddenly stopped his sentence and thought ‘wait, did I just almost called squad leader Y/N mom? Did I call her mom earlier?’

“What’s wrong Eren?” Mikasa asked.

“Nothing, squad leader Y/N,” Eren insisted on these words heavily, “is right, it’s late, let’s all go to sleep.” Eren then run to his bedroom.

“Such a weirdo.” Levi stated before walking away with you.

In the middle of the night, Eren was still awake thinking about what he said. He was moving loudly, and Armin woke up very annoyed.

“Eren stop moving so energetically!”

“I’m not.” Eren mumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did I call squad leader… you know.”

“Did you do an Armin? Yes. You call her mom. Welcome to the club! Now sleep.”

 —————

-          Mikasa

Mikasa was hanging with Eren and Armin outside after dinner. Eren and Armin were frenetically about Eren’s next prank on Jean.

“You always prepare something either too dangerous or just normal dangerous. Jean could get hurt!” Armin protested.

“That’s the idea I was going for. Plus, it’s not that dangerous.”

“You want to push him off the wall!”

“Yeah, but he has his gear on and we’ll just all laugh at this anyway. Right Mikasa?” Eren asked her friend.

“Jean could die if he doesn’t use his gear.” Mikasa observed.

“He’s not that stupid.” Eren replied.

“Ask mom then and look at her being disappointed by you.” Mikasa told them.

They both turned their head towards Mikasa and glared at her, with a shocked look.

“What?”

“You just called squad leader Y/N ‘mom’” Eren burst out laughing.

“No, I didn’t. I said mom… as in…” Mikasa tried to correct herself.

“Yeah right, what other mom you possibly could be talking about?” Eren pointed out.

“It’s because you two keep calling her that! And I just forgot her name and…” Mikasa defended herself, “It’s your fault!”

“It’s fine, that makes the three of us in the club!” Armin shouted.

 —————

-          Historia

Everyone just discovered that Historia was the rightful heir to the throne, and no one knew what to do.

“Fine. Then run.” Levi said taking Historia by her blouse collar.

“Oh my, Levi!” you screamed rushing towards Historia. “Let her go!”

Levi let her go and left. You took Historia in your arms as she was ready to collapse on the ground.

“Are you okay sweetie?” you questioned her worried. She just held you close and thanked you. “Levi didn’t mean it. I’m going to ask to apologise.”

“It’s fine. He’s right. I should do something about this.” Historia waited a few minutes before saying “thanks mom,” blushing.

Everyone else wanted to throw a comment but no one dared after seeing you glaring at them. Only Armin whispered “welcome to the club” for himself.

 —————

 -          Annie

Instructor Shadis sent you a letter asking you a favour. He was feeling ill and asked you to substitute him while he recovers. You obviously agreed to it. You were surprised at how Annie was at hand-to-hand combat.

“Who taught you that?” you asked marvelled by her technique.

“My father.”

“Well good job!”

The whole time you were here you would constantly compliment her. You would really compliment everyone on their asset.

One night, Annie was outside with Reiner and Bertolt, talking together.

“I like squad leader Y/N, she is nice.” Reiner said in a moment of silence.

“Or she could just pretend to be nice so we wouldn’t try so hard when she’s here and that’s how we fail.” Annie pointed out.

“She’s not like that.” Bertolt insisted, “She seems genuinely nice. Never felt that supported in such a long time.”

“Yeah.” Reiner agreed.

Annie did not want to say it, but she agreed with them. You were always so supportive, always encouraging people do to better. Always telling them that they did a great job when they messed up. Annie wanted to add something, but she heard footsteps and she turned around ready to fight but it was only you.

“Mom! I was ready to fight you.” Annie yelled.

“What did you just call squad leader Y/N?” Reiner asked surprised.

“I– I said mam.”

“No, you said mom.” Reined laughed.

“NO! I said mam as in sir but for a woman!”

“I just wanted to make sure you guys were alright,” you admitted, “it’s late and I don’t want you guys to be tired since I know how instructor Shadis can be.”

“Instructor Shadis?” Bertolt asked.

“Yes, he’s feeling much better and he’s coming back tomorrow. I also came to say goodbye since I’m leaving tonight. I wish you luck and I know you guys are going to be amazing!” you end your little speech with a hug to each one of them. “I’ll probably see you around if you ever decide to join the survey corps.”

Annie was right, she was going to miss you.

 —————

-          Sasha

Sasha was a great kid, a great fighter but more importantly, she was a food lover. She never had enough food at lunch or dinner. She would always ask her friend for their bread or a piece of their meat when they did eat meat.

Once, Sasha was late to dinner because she had cleaning duties and she was a slow cleaner which made her late. Being late meant no food too but she still came to the kitchen hoping for leftovers – there were none. She went to the mess hall and collapse on the table. She heard a person sat down in front of her but did not move.

“You should eat Sasha.” she heard.

“No food.”

“Look up.”

She did and there was a tray with a bowl of soup that was still hot and two pieces of bread. She gasped and started to cry tears of joy.

“Thank you, mom! I was so hungry!” Sasha thanked you with her mouth full of a mix of soup and bread.

“You’re welcome, next time you can come to me and I’ll help you clean alright?” you told her.

You waited for her to be finished before going back to your bedroom. In the middle of that night, Sasha suddenly woke up, panting.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asked ready to fight an intruder.

“Nooo. I’m in the club now too.” Sasha realised.

“What? You called squad leader Y/N mom too?” Mikasa joked.

“Yeah…”

 —————

 -          Jean

Jean had cleaning duties in the equipment area. He and Connie were talking and being careless as usual when they were cleaning. So careless that Jean somehow caused a shelf full of heavy books to fall on his leg.

When Connie explained to you what happened you rushed to where Jean was. You and Connie helped Jean out and took him to the infirmary. Jean was now on bed rest for at least a week since he could not move his right leg anymore.

“How am I going to live now?” Jean complained after hearing the news.

“I’m taking care of you until further notice.” you reassured him.

Levi decided that Jean would still be attending training even if that meant only watching. After two weeks, Jean was still hurt – according to him anyway. Which the nurse found weird because that type of injury did not last long if he was resting correctly which is something you made sur of. Levi told you that it was suspicious, but you believed Jean.

“Your love for this kid is making you blind! Jean is obviously fine now!” Levi told you desperately every night.

“He’ll get better, if he’s still hurt and he goes back training then he might not be able to fight at all.” you explained.

You should have believed Levi because one day, you were stuck in a meeting with Commander Erwin which meant you couldn’t stay with the cadets training. Thankfully, the meeting ended sooner than you thought so you went to see the kids, only to find Jean perfectly healthy, on his feet, fighting Eren.

“JEAN KIRSTEIN YOU SON OF A B–“ you yelled.

“NO!” Jean screamed collapsing to the ground dramatically, “It’s not what you think mom! NO!” Jean put his hands on his mouth.

“Oouh Jean called squad leader Y/N ‘mom’” Eren chanted.

“Now that they almost all called you mom,” Hange stated coming out of nowhere, “does that mean Levi is their daddy?”

 —————

-          That one-time Jean called Captain Levi ‘dad’

It was during one of the expeditions outside. You brought tents and prepared them but none of you wanted to sleep yet. You built a fire, and all sat around it. The cadets took turn telling horror stories and once Jean was done, you all applauded him.

“That was great.” Levi complimented him.

“Thanks, daaa–ptain!” Jean corrected himself hallway through his sentence.

Everyone burst out laughing and Jean was blushing hard, while Levi was only smirking drinking his tea.

“Jean, it’s official, you’re their kid now.” Hange kept laughing.

“I’m so embarrassed.” Jean grunted, “I’m sorry d– captain! What is wrong with me!”  

 —————

From then on, they wouldn’t even hide the fact that they all called you mom from time to time. At one point, new recruits thought that it was you name so some of them would call you “squad leader mom”.

MASTERLIST

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

[debbierhea]

and the world around us shatters / better call saul / wc: 2392  / kimmy jimmy omaha cinnabon reunion / special thanks to @kimberly-wexler for the beta <3

Summary: 

She’d been searching. For years.

She’d been searching. For years. Hired a PI and then another. Scoured every database she had credentialed access to and then a few she didn’t. Even adopted a cat to soothe the loneliness, lull the throbbing emptiness she felt in her chest. She’d had one as a girl once, a stray really, whom she loved. But this cat was as sulky and capricious as she had become and no matter how committed she was to ignoring it, the ulterior motive of pet adoption was glaring, if not to anyone else, to her.

After three months of No. Not like this. You can’t. Leave it alone. Don’t get involved, the ill-tempered tabby was Kim’s foot in the door. It was a Thursday when she sat across from his veterinarian, cat on the exam table, and said, “I need your help.”

“What kind of help are we talking?” He eyed her, stroked the tabby between her ears.

“I’m looking for someone.” Silence followed.

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that.”

“You know him. Jimmy McGill.”

His eyebrows rose. More silence.

“Well, can you help me or not?”

“You know it’s not always a matter of can I help.”

Kim tilted her chin, raised her eyes to meet his, unflinching. “Does that mean you won’t help me?”

“Hm?” The cat was purring into his hand, licking his thumb. “Oh, no. Just that my price may be something you’re unwilling to pay.”

She swallowed. “That’s not possible.”

“Okay then,” he nodded, stuck out his hand. She shook it.

Now, she was wandering through a sea of midwesterners in puffy coats and mittens, dusting snow off their shoulders, chattering about the weather. She hasn’t been back to this part of the country in years and it oddly feels like a homecoming, though she stopped considering Nebraska home the moment she left. It was simply a place she had lived, never one that offered family or comfort or love. There were sparse memories of joy with the odd classmate and a fond recollection of the first grade teacher who encouraged her to read, helped her get her very own library card. But now as then, there never existed a sense of ease or belonging for her. Even so, the familiarity of the Casey’s General Store on the corner, the Runzas on menus across state rest stops, the flurries of snow reddening her nose and chilling her bones, fostered a small flame of hope deep inside. She could still recognize, even find comfort in, a place she so detested. After the passage of so many years, this place was still the same and, underneath the new high rises and parking meters and sushi restaurants, she could see the bones of this city. Maybe the same could hold true for other things in her life.

Looking over the map in the lobby, she cupped her hands before her mouth and blew into them. The chill rested deep inside her, the hope she fostered in her heart doing little to warm her weary bones. All her work was to lead to this: trudging up the tiled stairs in damp snow boots surrounded by people who knew nothing about pain, not really. Not pain like hers.

She smelled it before she saw it, curving with the second floor walkway past storefront after storefront of clothes and books and knick knacks. She had just side-stepped the man trying to give free lotion samples when the warmth of cinnamon and sugar wafted over her. Her footsteps stuttered and her gait slowed. It was like watching a car whose engine was stalling out. She was light-headed, unable to string a thought together, parse out what she was feeling in her body besides a deep urge to run. Her therapist would tell her that she wanted to run because of her fear of being vulnerable and then being left behind. Again. Kim pushed hair that had fallen loose of her ponytail behind her ear, took three deep breaths, and followed her nose.

A small line stood in front of the cash register, three or four people, waiting for a treat to get them through their holiday shopping. She contemplated her next step from across the food court. Anticipation fluttered through her, givinggave rise to goosebumps beneath her layers of knit and down. Then further, deeper, beneath the adrenaline, lived something twisting and gnawing inside of her chest. She knew this thing like she knew the location of every security camera at the Hinky Dinky or the route she took home after school when her mom got too lost in the liquor aisle to remember to pick her up. This thing she knew was fear—fear of hope, of the inevitable ache of a further bruised heart. She crossed the food court despite it.

Trying to slip back into her midwestern skin, move through this world unassuming and deferential, she stood to the right of the registers, observing the ebb and flow of workers behind the glass. Dough was being kneaded by one, another opened an oven to check the progress of the bake. A third manned the register. A second till was sat unused, cash drawer open and empty. She stood there, just outside the current of customers, twitching her chapped fingers, tapping them against the inside of her own palm. He used to tease her for it. Five minutes passed, then ten. The line grew longer. Her flame of hope was waning.

Then, a voice—a bellow, more like—broke through the low hum of conversation in the food court.

“Coming! I’m coming, Miranda!” Kim froze.

A man in an apron and mustache came through the door marked “Employees Only” and made his way to the front of the store, a full cash drawer in his hands.

“Sorry! For some reason the safe just wouldn’t open.”

Kim was drifting through the crowd, pulled toward his voice. Her eyes began to burn.

“Here are some quarters for you. I figured you might be running low.” His eyes flicked up, scanning the crowd, estimating how many rolls they should throw into the oven. “I’ll open this one up and—,” his roaming gaze stopped. “And I, uh....”

She swallowed, her throat tight, eyes glassy. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He stood, slack jawed, staring.

“Um, Miranda I—Just, uh, just take this,” he handed the cash drawer to the teenager standing next to him, eyes never leaving Kim’s. “I’ll be right back.”

His shoes squeaked as he made his way around the counter and out into the seating area of the restaurant. Kim hadn’t moved, stunned like a deer in headlights on a Nebraska back road. He seemed as though he was moving in slow motion, each step towards her an eternity, and yet it was still not long enough to prepare herself for him to be standing directly in front of her. She felt like she’d just fallen through the ice into a glacial lake. No, she hadn’t fallen. She’d jumped. On purpose. And broke through.

He stood there, inches from her; she could see the gray in his mustache. He paused, just for a moment, then said, “Follow me.”

And she did.

They weaved in and out of tables and shoppers and janitors picking up fast food wrappers off the floor. He glanced back at her once, as if he was scared she wouldn’t be there behind him, as if she hadn’t been following him, chasing him, for what felt like her whole life. He led them down a hallway, empty save for a woman waiting on a bench between two bathroom doors, one labeled with a dress, the other a tie. Kim gave her a close-mouthed smile.

Jimmy stopped abruptly, reaching for the door to the family restroom. He held it open, looked into her eyes. Kim gave the woman another glance, cheeks reddening, and walked through the door before she could think or feel or do anything that would make her stop herself. She moved towards the far, tiled wall and as she turned, heard the clicking of the door’s latch, then the lock.

He paused then, there, gripping the door handle, his head resting against its grain. His body was tense, coiled and bound and, she realized, foreign to her. Stooped shoulders, billowing polo, slight waist cinched by an apron. Even from behind, he looked bleary, posture like a drooping flower on the sill. What happened to him?

Kim was grateful for this pause he was granting her. Everything seemed to be moving at a pace she was incapable of matching, an emotional marathon she had not trained for; she never did have much emotional stamina outside of simply holding them all in, like a child holding their breath in the deep end of the pool.

Then, he turned.

He was just as unfamiliar from the front as he was from behind, cheeks a bit sallow and stippled with five o’clock shadow, wiry glasses. His nametag read “Gene.” But Jimmy McGill was still the same in his bones and in the time it takes to exhale that breath you’ve been holding under the gentle waves of your childhood pool, the split second it takes for that breath to form a spray of bubbles racing you to the surface, they were in each other’s arms.

Centered on the yellowing, speckled tile, they grasped at shoulders and elbows, knees knocked, tears fell. Finally, Kim slipped her arms around his ribs and clutched him to her chest, nails digging into cotton and, beneath, soft skin. His face caught between shoulder and neck, he inhaled the scent of her, goosebumps rising as her puffy, down sleeves brushed against his bare arms. His hands roamed her back, skidding and sliding across slick fabric. It felt as if his hands had been frozen and he had finally found the fire he’s sought to warm them. Sneaking his right hand up and up and under the thick wool of her scarf, he hesitated just a moment before placing his fingertips to the soft skin of her neck. She gasped, a sob drawn out on a breath. His left hand pushed into the small of her back. She pulled him in tighter.

They held each other there, flushed and desperate and weepy, for a time—how long, neither could say. As the hand rubbing her back would slow, she would squeeze his middle gently as if to say Not yet and he would answer with gentle pressure between her shoulder blades. When her grip on him would loosen, his fingers would drift into the hairs at the base of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, and she would let him. This is how they stayed, questioning and answering each other as only they could with little more than a sigh passing through their lips.

Then, Kim began to pull gently away. He stiffened the moment he sensed her movement from him, but she did not try to leave his embrace, this wasn’t her intention, not truly. She only wanted to see his dear face, maybe say hello. Placing one hand on his chest, she leaned ever so slightly back as his arms moved to circle her waist. Tears clung to his lashes and dripped from the tip of his nose. He swallowed hard as her eyes roamed his face, different but somehow entirely the same. She felt like she was back in the HHM parking garage bumming a smoke from the new guy in the mailroom. Hundreds of days and miles from then, he was still hers.

Bringing both hands up, cupping his jaw, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs, she smiled. “Jimmy.”

At this, his eyes closed, Kim holding him tenderly in her palms. He hasn’t heard that name in years. When was the last time he thought of himself as anyone other than Saul Goodman? Saul the criminal defense attorney. Saul on the run. Saul posing as a Cinnabon manager. More tears fell free.

Removing his hands from her waist, he held her delicate wrists, one in each hand, his thumbs mimicking her caress across his skin. She gave the slightest tilt of her head and he answered with a reed-thin voice, a sad smile, “It’s you.”

She knitted her perfectly arched brows, that tell-tale wrinkle emerging between them, her eyes soft and wet, red-rimmed. She bit her lip and began to shake her head, never removing her gaze from his. After a moment, she smiled again, smaller this time, lips closed, and slipped one hand smoothly into his, the other onto his shoulder, not willing to break contact.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

More tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes as he rolled them to the ceiling, heart aching.

“Kim…I…”

“I know.” A pause. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Baby, I know.”

From shoulder back to his neck, Kim guided Jimmy with her hand, resting his forehead against her own, meeting in the middle, holding him there.

“Oh god—” a sob broke from deep in his chest.

Kim stroked his neck, shoulder, face, back. Jimmy wept.

Tears darkened the collar of his polo shirt and the tremors running through his body prompted Kim to wrap herself around him once more, burying her nose in his neck, focusing on the sickly-sweet scent of yeasted dough rising, cinnamon, and icing sugar over the pain so fierce living in the main between her arms.

As all things do with time, his sobs became weaker and fewer, until his breathing returned to a shallow, exhausted inhale, sniffly exhale. Kim lifted him from her shoulder and he raised his eyes towards hers. Her lips twitched, and then she brought them to his cheek. One, then the other, over and over, like salve to a wound she covered his drying tear tracks with her lips. Gentle and soft, like the flap of a butterfly’s wings did she kiss him. And then, she centered herself, hand threading into his hair, she moved to his lips.

“Kim,” he whispered, a breath from her lips.

“Yes?”

“What if you’ve come all this way to find someone who…doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”

Again, Kim knit her brows and shook her head. She placed her right hand over his heart, lifted her shoulders gently in a shrug.

“It’s you.”

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.9

masterlist

requests are closed, but please read this first :)

if you want to be tagged, send an ask or message me!

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope, my original shameless self insert idea lmao

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when their exchange student is...a bit strange (but very hot). NOT a nonmagic AU, though you already knew that if you’ve read part 8 ;)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a break in, concerns about a home intruder, objectively the most fluffy scene we’ve gotten so far in this series (hehe), draco being fucking obnoxious and moody (did i mention swearing?)

a/n: ayoooooo so here’s part 9, as promised. i’ve started getting back into the hp universe more and more, so i should probably be picking up my writing soon. i’ve been feeling more myself again!! which is super awesome. i don’t think many people read this series anymore (or my author notes in general but i don’t blame yall) but i’m having a lot of fun writing it, so i’m going to keep going :)

music recs: 

puppy princess -- hot freaks

loverboy -- A-wall

linger -- the cranberries

tags tags tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

word count: 3.8k :)

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if Draco deliberately waited until the last minute to tell her family that he was leaving so he could evade her questioning. She tried to talk to him later that evening by knocking on his door, but she was met with complete silence. 

Draco was ignoring her, and she didn’t get why. She’d promised to not tell anyone--even begged for him to trust her and essentially swore on her life--but he still wasn’t acting normal. Perhaps he didn’t want her to badger him with questions about the magical world. 

Or maybe this was an excuse to get away from her.

Y/N swallowed the second possibility and locked it away somewhere out of sight. He’d left without a single word more to her (not even a congratulations for getting into a top 20 school, that loser) and never even bothered telling her when he’d return. And maybe that was the nicest part of it--she could pretend like he was never coming back.

As attractive as that option was, she had to admit that there was a Draco-shaped hole in her passenger car seat every time she drove to school. And in the kitchen when she was studying. And everywhere else he’d once touched. 

“Why do you think he went back?” 

Y/N took a break from reviewing her Art History final exam notes to look up at Lizzy. “Maybe something happened with his dad or he wanted to spend his holidays with his family? It’s probably not that serious.”

“Speaking of his dad, I tried to look up his name and see if anything came up,” Lizzy began. Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. “Don’t you think it’s kinda sus? I haven’t found anything for him. It’s like he’s been completely wiped off the face of the earth. Do you know anything about it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Draco’s franticness when she found out lingered in the back of her mind as she chose her words carefully. “I’m sure if he’s a genuine political target, they’ve just scrubbed the web clean of him, being a minor and all.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny that he’s apparently so important but there’s no evidence of him or his father ever existing?”

“Lizzy.” Her voice was firm. “It’s entirely possible that his real name is different. And either way, it’s not our story to uncover. He’s entitled to his own privacy, and if he doesn’t reveal his true identity then we need to respect that.”

“Oooookaaayyyyy, Mother,” said Lizzy. “You’re so fun. You know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

After the close brush with Lizzy, Y/N avoided the topic of Draco with her friends like wildfire. At the back of her mind, she registered that that was probably more suspicious, but when Sylvia asked her about him during lunch, she finally spun up a story.

“I told him I liked him,” she told everyone, the words stinging her throat. “He doesn’t feel the same way. I just would feel better if we dropped it.”

Her friends reacted immediately with sympathy, telling her that it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t see her for what she was worth. Somehow, this made her feel worse. She didn’t even need to tell him her feelings to know his thoughts--he didn’t see her as anything but a “muggle”, or whatever he called them. She never stood a chance.

Y/N spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering how things would’ve been different if she was a witch. She didn’t know anything about his world (apart from the fact that they really had a stick up their asses about people knowing of them) but she somehow craved a place in it. Would Draco feel differently towards her if she was magic? 

It was probably better if she didn’t pay too much mind to it, but she couldn’t let the thought go. Every time she shut her eyes at night, the memory of waking up next to Draco replayed in her head, over and over. She would’ve sold her soul to have gone back to that. Would things have been different if she had just...not found the letters? She was driving herself crazy digging through all her interactions with him. There’s no way she was imagining things, and judging by the surprised reactions of her friends when she told them he didn’t reciprocate feelings, she wasn’t the only one who thought something was there. If he was really so disgusted by her and her people, he wouldn’t have let her sleep in his room, in his bed no less. 

As December wore on, her mind began to be occupied by another feverish stream of thoughts. If she didn’t already feel like she was going crazy over the Draco problem, she was going completely insane over the fact that she was misplacing things like crazy and forgetting the most basic of things. It seemed like it was almost every day that she was forgetting where she put her keys (even though she could’ve sworn she’d hung them up by the door) or getting home to find the door already unlocked even though she was sure that she’d locked it behind her. It would’ve creeped her out, but she was really off kilter. It just wasn’t right having Draco away, and the sense of dread she got every time she went by her room just threw her off balance. What if she still had lingering sickness from whatever magical infliction she suffered? 

He really should’ve stuck around to watch after me. Just in case. 

Another thing was bothering her--a name she saw pop up in the pouch from when she went through his letters. It was a small portion of his collection, and she didn’t even think to examine it until after he took them back from her, but she noticed that the name “Pansy Parkinson” came up more than once as a return address. 

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst--Draco was madly in love with another girl, a magical girl, and traveled back home with the express purpose of declaring his neverending devotion for her and complaining about that rat Ohioan muggle that he had to spend his days with. 

Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t quite shake it. The fact that he’d no doubt grown up around girls that would be suitable for him to date was making her physically ill with jealousy, which was probably the most embarrassing part of her feelings for him. Nevermind how much time she spent fantasizing about how soft his hair felt or how his stupidly pretty fingers would feel grazing her skin--she couldn’t even cope with the idea of him existing with other women that were honestly a better choice to him. 

That Christmas was surprisingly bleak. Being an only child always made for a quiet house during the holidays, but the expectation she held of having Draco there set her up for disappointment. Her house felt empty.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” Y/N asked her mother as they did the morning dishes together. 

“Well, I assume so. Why wouldn’t he? He was scheduled to spend the entire year with us. I think that if he’s changed his mind we would at least know by now.”

“What if he’s still deciding?”

“Why, miss him already?” Mrs. Y/L/N’s tone was teasing, but she felt her cheeks grow hot. 

“Quite the contrary. I’m just wondering if I’m about to become the pampered only child again or if I’m going to need to go back into the unglamorous life of sharing the spotlight.”

“Y/N,” her mother tutted. She’d stopped doing the dishes.

Y/N made a point to evade her knowing look. “Mom.” 

Her mother took a breath before answering. “Nothing. As a matter of fact, I did get a letter from him a few days ago. He’s scheduled to return the second week of January, right before school goes back.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, there’s no way her relief wasn’t visible.

“How’s that for your Christmas gift, hm?” 

“Mom!”

“Hey! Hey, it was a joke,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, throwing her hands up in a “no can do” sort of gesture. “I know that you’re good friends with him is all. Unless…”

“Mom!” Her cheeks were all shades of red.

“All I’m saying is that he seems to enjoy your company.”

“Stockholm syndrome, I’m telling you.” Her explanation of what that meant was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. There was no reason to--the only person who would need that explained to them was no longer on the same continent as her. 

“Whatever you’d like to think.”

~ 

The snowstorm hit them without warning, two days after Christmas. Her parents had left for the night to attend a charity auction, but unfortunately for Y/N, by the time that they realized that their daughter would be snowed in, the roads were too dangerous to drive on. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to do all of the things they told her to--get the generator ready, make sure the fireplace was prepared, and locate all the candles in the house. 

On any normal day, she wouldn’t have been concerned in the slightest, but she’d felt uneasy in her house ever since the night of the break-in, and now that this was the first night she’d have to spend alone, her heart was pounding at the thought of having to sleep in an empty house. Especially if the power was out. Especially when whoever broke in was still on the loose. 

She locked up at dusk, making sure that every entry to her home was completely sealed shut. The generator was in the basement, all set up in the case that the lights went out. She’d located all the bottled water in her house in case the pipes froze, and she finally retired to her room to relax. 

The sense of dread that hovered around Draco’s room was gone, thankfully. The overall feeling of creepiness was just beginning to lose its jarring sting, but she’d never quite been able to shake how many things she misplaced in the beginning of the month. 

She busied herself with mundane activities--she cleaned out her closet, organized her drawers, read, changed her sheets, and finished the last of her homework--but nothing could distract her from the gnawing inside of her. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly stood up, even when she was tucked away in the corner of her room, nestled into her blankets. The tingling was akin to what she felt when she walked into that antique shop on homecoming night--the same night when Draco helped her off her feet and narrowly kept her from throwing up all over Heather.

Looking back on it, she realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he must’ve done something to quell her nausea, something magical. There was no way her carsickness could’ve been able to disappear so quickly. 

Her soliloquy was interrupted by what sounded like footsteps outside. Before she could assess the situation and decide what she was going to do, a boom sounded off in the distance and she was all of a sudden bathed in darkness.

Y/N froze.

Someone was most definitely outside her house, but thankfully she’d locked all the doors. And, thankfully, the boom told her that her fuse box hadn’t been messed with. A tree had probably just fallen on a transformer. 

But those small comforts still didn’t change the fact that she was no longer alone--and not only that, but no longer alone without power. 

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by banging on her front door. Y/N jumped, just barely managing to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that alerting someone that you were home wasn’t the smartest move. She’d have to be strategic. 

Heart pounding out of her chest, she crept out of her room and down the stairs. The power outage was quite lucky, she realized, as whoever was outside couldn’t see in. The moon only cast a slight light as it reflected off of the snow, so she was going to be able to see the person outside before they would see her.

She squinted from her perch by the base of the staircase. She could make out a silhouette, a tall and lanky one. The weak moonlight reflected off a very light head of hair, and Y/N was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

No way...

Y/N stood frozen for a few seconds as she heard the person knock on the door again. A muffled version of a familiar British voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Throwing all caution to the wind and praying to any higher power that was listening to her that her suspicion was correct, she pushed down on the doorknob and swung it open.

Her heart stopped. 

“Draco? What are you--”

Before she could get another word out of her mouth, she was pulled into the tightest (and snowiest) hug of her life. One of his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, the other reaching further up to her shoulders to hold her closer. He was tall enough in comparison that he could rest his chin on the top of her head while she cautiously clasped her hands around him, breathing in the same soft pine scent that she knew so well.

When he finally let go of her, she noticed that his face was decidedly less pale than what it had been when she first opened the door. At a loss for words, Y/N just made her way behind him and shut the door to keep the storm from blowing any more snowflakes in. She noted that Draco was shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She grinned. “Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not that scared of the dark.”

He didn’t look nearly as amused, wringing his hands out in front of him instead of meeting her eyes.

“You’re going to freeze to death if you’re gonna just stand there in soaking clothes,” she chided. “And what are you doing back half a month early? I know you must’ve missed me, but I didn’t expect you to miss me THAT much.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing Y/N the comfort that the sarcastic asshole was still in there. “We need to talk.”

“No, what you need to do is get changed into dry clothes,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but until we get our generator working, there’s no heat...and I’m not sure if the Ministry is going to like it if I let you die on my watch.”

Even though he didn’t normally laugh at her jokes, he seemed especially solemn when she said this. It became very clear to her then that he regretted his brief display of affection.

“What are you doing, just standing here? Shoo! I don’t want to see you dripping snow all over the rug.” She waved him off until he made his way up the stairs, still eerily silent. 

Once she was sure he was actually getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen where she started heating up the water. She’d never been more thankful for the fact that they had a gas stove instead of an electric one. 

The tea was almost finished brewing by the time that Draco was back downstairs, perched awkwardly on the couch. She’d never seen his sweater before--it was in a rich forest green with a silver crest of a snake. 

“Are you going to tell me whatever is going on? I’ve never seen you like this before,” asked Y/N as she handed him the mug that she knew to be his favorite.

He took a sip and waited a bit before responding. “I found out some things while I was away.”

“Is that it? Must’ve been something pretty interesting for you to come in here and act like I’m your long lost love or whatever.” She took careful note of how his cheeks were especially pink, but it must’ve been because of the cold.

“I shouldn’t tell you everything, but I think you should probably know the gist of things,” he began. “First of all, I figured out why I couldn’t use the Obliviation cube on you. Also, you have to consent to an Unbreakable Vow.”

“A...what? Care to elaborate? Like, at least a little? Why didn’t it work on me?”

He sighed, a sharp breath of air that left his lungs in a huff. “Because you stumbled upon a very important box that can bestow the gift of magic onto anyone. And since you did something in your dream to try and open it, it permanently took root in you. I tried to reverse it, but there’s always going to be an imprint of magic on you.”

“Sick. So I’m a witch now? Like you?”

“No.” His tone was sour. “No, you’re not. For that to work, there needs to be a ritual actually completed by someone magical. That’s why you got so sick--because you would’ve needed me to help you through your dream sequence and open up the box. So, now that you’ve essentially pushed yourself into the magical world uninvited, I can’t use anything on you that’s catered towards Muggles.”

“Rats,” said Y/N. “That’s no fun. What about the whole part about my safety? And what’s that vow thing?”

“Apparently someone really, really wants that box,” Draco told her. “It doesn’t just give muggles the gift of magic--it can also give current wizards powers that are otherwise completely unavailable to the rest of the population. In the wrong hands, they could wreak havoc on the world. And I’m almost positive they think you have it.”

“Oh…” Everything started falling into place. “So, the break in? That probably was them right? And, uh, let’s say if you feel like maybe someone has been in your house while you’ve been gone? Like, that’s something I should be worried about, right?” 

“Is that happening to you?” His face looked significantly more pale.

Y/N was tempted to tell him no--just to ease his nerves--but something in his look told her that she needed to be truthful. “Um, kind of. You know how I can be forgetful, though. It’s just little things, like sometimes I come home to find that the front door is unlocked when I’m sure I locked it, or I can’t find little things like my car keys and my phone, but it’s all easily explained.”

“I never should’ve left,” he said, tucked his knees up to his chest. “I should’ve known that that was Merlin’s Box.” He swallowed, meeting her eyes with a gaze that looked so forlorn that her heart ached. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, all we have to do is tell them I don’t have the box, right? And then they’ll leave me alone.” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assume so, but if they didn’t find the box when they originally ransacked your room and they’re still hanging around, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I can’t obliviate you, the proper way that we use on wizards, because I can’t always be there to save you. Once I’m gone, you’re going to have to manage on your own.”

“Please, Draco,” said Y/N. “People will always talk a big game, but once I pull out my pepper spray it’s over. I can take care of myself! I didn’t need protection while you’re away.”

He smiled then, a small one that seemed more sad than anything. “You sound like me. When I was younger.”

“You probably don’t even know what pepper spray is. What’s that vow thing?”

“You have to promise that you won’t say anything that would reveal what you know about me and my world,” said Draco. “I need to find a wizard to say the incantations, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I ended up telling the Ministry what happened--I’m not going to get sent away as they have a clear record of me at least attempting to wipe your memory and they agree that you need to be able to protect yourself. Unbreakable Vows are just really intense promises. If you break it, you die.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t really trust my word?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s required by the Ministry. If you don’t comply, then you’re going to be completely obliviated and then you can have as much fun as you’d like trying to run from whoever that criminal is without even knowing why they’re after you. Oh, and without me.” 

“Then why are you even offering the vow? Don’t you want to go home?”

Draco took a long drink from his mug. “I still have a sentence to carry out. If I go back home, I’ll get sent to the same prison that my father is being held at right now.”

“A...sentence?” Y/N stared at him. “I know you mentioned a punishment, but a sentence?”

He remained silent and refused to meet her eyes.

“Draco, what exactly did you have to do?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. The sudden switch of tone made Y/N start, but he was unwavering in his scowl. “I’d prefer to not think about it.”

“But...Draco…” Y/N cast her gaze to the ground so she didn’t have to see the no doubt furious look in his eyes when she continued to push. “How bad? Do you think that maybe whoever is after me might know that I don’t have the box anymore? And that they might be trying to seek revenge against you for whatever it was that you did instead?”

He didn’t respond.

“Think about it. That would explain why I was untouched this whole time that you were away when they were still keeping tabs on me.”

With a pronounced bonk, he set his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

She managed to get one more look at his face before he spun around to head up the stairs and was shocked to see what was etched into his face--anger, yes, frustration...and also shame. Unmistakable shame.

final a/n: weeoooooooo i’m like 3 minutes early...this is a monumental moment for my blog. let me know what you guys think (if there’s still people sticking with this series fjkds;al). i am going to go back into my hole and work on some math hw (wonders of ohio y/n vibes...i have low key become her trying to roleplay as a stem girl). the plot is going to thicken and hopefully there will be more fluff soon. i honestly didn’t want to add the hug bc i do want this to be slow burn but it has come to my attention that this is now about 30k words long and i haven’t given y’all so much as an inkling that draco has feelings/anything will happen between them so i gotta give you something to hold you over fjdska;

[five-rivers]

Candlelight

Sequel to the 'Familiar AU.'

.

Tucker lit the candle at the center of the circle and used it to light the candles around the edges. “Alright,” he said, out loud, as he checked the antique book next to him.

As the only one of their trio not currently under the effects of a mind/body affecting ancient spell, it fell to Tucker to try and break it. Even if this was really, really not his thing.

“You’d better say what Google Translate says you say,” he said to the book.

His phone alarm started beeping.

“Okay. Okay.” He nudged the bowls with Sam and Danny’s hair… and signatures… and blood… that had sure been a weird ask, especially since he had to keep the exact reason he was asking secret… into alignment. “Here goes nothing.”

He started chanting.

.

Danny startled awake and blinked sleepily at his ceiling. Something was happening, he could tell. Something… nice? He hoped so.

He rolled over, hugging his quilt like a stuffed animal. Lately, he’d been a lot less stressed. Probably because of the familiar spell Vivian had made them cast. It was nice to know what was going on with at least one of the people he cared about all the time.

Of course, if he saw Vivian again, he’d beat her into the ground. She’d melted him, and Sam didn’t like her. That definitely left him with a grudge to hold.

Well. If he could beat her into the ground. He usually did better the second time around when facing ghosts, so he thought his chances were fifty-fifty or thereabouts.

It sort of felt like the something that was happening had to do with Tucker. That was nice.

He dozed off.

.

For all that Sam claimed to be a creature of the night, this week had been one that left her with a dearth of beauty sleep. So, when she woke up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason, she was more than a little annoyed.

“What,” she growled, sleepily, at the air. Nothing answered. “Tucker?” Danny was the more likely nighttime visitor, what with midnight ghost fights being a thing, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t here. “C’mon in’r whatev’r,” she mumbled, pressing her face back into her pillow.

No one came in. She forced herself, in the name of not regretting stuff later, to look first at her window (empty) and then at her phone (no notifications). Bereft of stimulation, she went back to sleep.

.

Tucker, panicked and cursing under his breath, sprayed the burning floor with the fire extinguisher. That. Had not gone as planned.

In the dark, he stumbled over to the wall and fumbled for the light switch. He blinked against the sudden brightness and glared at his arms. The fire had burned right through his sleeves. He pushed them up.

Those weren’t burns, though. Tucker’s cursing became notably more vehement. He prodded one of the markings with a finger. It didn’t hurt.

All he could think was that if his mom saw these, she’d kill him for getting a tattoo. Heck, he was about to kill him for getting these.

In any case, the ritual had not worked as advertised.

He picked up his phone and dialed first Danny, then Sam.

.

Danny’s deliriously happy expression boded ill for Tucker, in his experience opinion. Yes, he was almost always happy to see them, but this was above and beyond, especially given the late hour.

“What did you do?” demanded Sam, swinging down from Danny’s arms. Danny, meanwhile, practically jumped Tucker, hugging him tightly.

“Uh,” said Tucker. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He waved his free arm, the one Danny wasn’t pinning to his body. “I was trying to break the, uh, you know.”

“Awww,” said Danny, “whyyyyy?”

“Because you aren’t being rational about this, Danny,” said Tucker, pushing at him, slightly.

“But I’m okay with it!” said Danny. “I told you.”

“Okay, right, yeah,” said Sam. “Thank you for still trying.” She swept a hand through her hair. “But when you called us, you were all upset, and Danny is still…” She gestured at Danny, who was now trying to pull her into the hug. “Like this.”

“I’m always like this.”

“Yes, but not so much.” She evaded his grasp and, finally, Danny let go of Tucker, pouting. “I feel like you’ve been bitten by a cuddle bug.”

“Haha, that could be the name of a ghost,” said Danny. He poked Tucker. “You put yourself in, somehow. I can tell.”

Well. Tucker’s stomach had just dropped through the floor. “What do you mean? Put myself into what?”

“Into the, you know.” He waved a finger between himself and Sam.

“Aw, man,” said Tucker. He pushed up they sleeves of his PJ shirt, which he had hastily thrown on after calling Sam and Danny. “Anyway, I did the thing, which, uh. Had to do with all the stuff I asked you for last week, and… These happened.”

“Ah,” said Sam.

“Ooh,” said Danny. “Do they hurt?”

“No,” said Tucker. “They’re just… there.” He rubbed at one of them.

Danny poked one of the lines and traced it up to the crease of Tucker’s elbow. “They look like tattoos,” he said.

“I know,” said Tucker.

“They kind of look like bracers,” said Sam, tilting her head. “Or a net.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “Not what was on my mind, actually.”

“Oh,” said Sam.

“If I walked into some kind of magical slavery booby trap, I’m going to be so mad,” said Tucker, slumping down on his bed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Can you show me the book? The spell you used?” asked Danny. “Maybe Sam and I can figure out what happened.”

Tucker pointed at the corner he had thrown the book during his several minute long tantrum.

Danny floated over and picked it up. He paged through it. “The one with the bookmark?”

“The one with the bookmark,” agreed Tucker, despondently.

“Oh,” said Danny, after a few minutes. “Hm,” he said.

“What?” demanded Sam and Tucker, all at once.

“Well, I might be misinterpreting this, because old languages and all that, but… We saw something that looked just like this in another book, but it said that it would do something completely different.”

“Oh, gosh, it was booby trapped,” said Tucker, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Yeah,” said Danny, agreeably.

“So, what does it actually do?” asked Sam, peeking over Danny’s shoulder.

“Oh, it’s a request to be added to the, um, familiar contract,” said Danny.

“I am not a familiar.”

“Yeah, yeah, no, I think this is strictly for humans,” said Danny. “So… You’re kind of part of it, but junior to Sam? And sort of probationary, from what remember. We’d need to find it, but… I didn’t one hundred percent get it the first time around, and… well… yeah.”

Sam dragged her hands down her face. “We’re going to have to talk to Vivian again, aren’t we?”

“Wait, wait, if it’s probationary—”

“That’s only the feeling I got from it,” said Danny.

“—doesn’t that mean there’s a way to undo this?”

Danny shrugged, his brow pinched. “I’m sorry… I know you guys don’t particularly like this. It’s just… Nice. To know that this way I can help you guys with things, even if I’m not there.”

“We know, man. We just feel like we’re taking advantage,” said Tucker.

“Okay,” said Danny. He sighed. “If it’s really that important to you guys, I’ll try and take finding a… a fix more seriously.”

“Thanks, Danny,” said Sam. She yawned. “Can we talk about this more tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker. He glared at his arms. “I’ll just… Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, Tucker,” said Danny. “Everything will be fine.”

[tastyykpop]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛-ρ† 2

Pairings: enemy, student, barista!jaemin x student, barista!reader, (very small) taemin x reader

Suggestive, slight angst (you have to squint), fluff

<previous- next>

Warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming kinda, possessiveness, degradation, praise, thigh riding, choking a lot, pet names, jealousy

a/n : here we go again👨‍🦯

"Is it true? Her and jaemin?" Students whispered amongst themselves and thats all you heard today, wondering why they were even talking about you and him. It was strange really, jaemin was nicer and there were very little pranks and even then, they weren't as bad as what they used to be.

"Y/n! Oh my god I can't believe it!" Yeri jumped with a smile plastered on her face, "Are you and jaemin together?"

You twisted your face in confusion. Is that what people think? "What!? No! Where did you even get that from?" You questioned.

Yeri smirked and leaned closer, "I heard from jeno that you both fucked." She leaned back, "is that true?"

"I- well thats not entirely wrong but what does that have to do with him and I dating?"

"Jaemins been nicer with you and there's rarely ever pranks. I mean, anyone with a brain could tell that something is up." Yeri pointed out. She raised an eyebrow as you glanced around, making sure no one can hear you.

"Okay yes me and jaemin did have sex, but seriously we aren't dating. And I'm just as shocked as you about the way he's acting." You whisper-yelled at your friend. She mouth fell into an 'o' shape as she nodded, then attempted to walk away until you grabbed and brought her back, "wait im missing something." You squinted, "please dont tell me everyone in the school knows."

"Okay I wont." She shrugged and tried to walk away again but your hand gripped her arm tighter, "Ow, did you get stronger?"

"Yeri I'm serious! No one was supposed to know and now everyone knows!" You slowly let go of her and stared at the ground, "i swear Im gonna kill that boy!"

Yeri snickered and patted your shoulder, "Dont you mean fuck him?"

"YERI!!"

Order after order, customer after customer, you began to wear down after a hard days work. Irene stayed for a bit at yours and jaemins station to help since it was so busy. And it still wasn't fast enough for all the orders that just kept coming. It felt like you weren't going to finish and the shop closed at 8:30, it was currently 8:17.

"Ugh why is there so many orders at this time?" Irene groaned from exhaustion, jaemin snickered.

"Just be happy we get payed after this." He said and you all agreed.

Everything seemed to suddenly slow down at the cafe as it was beginning to close. Only a few orders were actually left and after that, you could close.

Irene and jaemin cleaned up the stations. Of course Irene left first afterwards, and you counted the money at the register. And since youve been working here for almost 2 years, counting money was just as easy as walking. But since its been super busy today, it took you a while to count some of the coins. Only once while you counted did you mess up, but you brushed it away and started again.

"Can you be any slower?" Jaemin commented, having just finished his part.

Putting the money away after counting, you put your hands on your hips like a mom scolding her child, "Whats the hurry all of a sudden?"

He only giggled and ruffled your already messy hair, "I wanna spend time with my baby."

You tried your hardest not to blush.

"No way." You swatted his hand off your head.

"And why not?" He quirked an eyebrow as you and him walked to an empty table in the cafe.

"Cuz you told jeno what we did last night and now the whole school knows. I'm kinda mad at you right now." Groaning, you hid your head in your arms trying to avoid his gaze.

You couldnt see him, but you heard the sigh and knew he was pouting at you, buy you didn't bother looking up.

"Why can't I brag about how good you were?" Jaemin questions, leaving you to groan louder.

"This isnt what I wanted..."

The boy shifted in his seat and pulled your head out your arms, his hands holding the side of your cheeks, "then what did you want?"

Your cheeks puffed as you tried to find the right words, "...to not have done what we did last night."

"So you regret it?"

You shrugged.

Jaemin leaned back and stared at you with a cold face. He has a hint as to why youre now suddenly saying this, not only because of him telling his friends, but also because of his past with you. If he wasnt pranking you, he was making fun of you, if it wasn't that, he'd make you flustered with his words or actions. Jaemin was annoying, yes, but your reactions were priceless to him. You got annoyed by jaemin and you hated him. He didnt blame you even after all this.

"I guess im not really mad at you telling him, just more confused on why you had sex with me." You started playing with a strand of fallen hair and waited for his answer.

"I did what I wanted to do from the beginning; fucking you dumb. If you think there's another reason, there isn't." Jaemin crossed his arms with a half smile.

You stopped playing with your hair and glared at him, "No no there has to be more! You're way to nice to me now for that to be it!"

"Do you think I like you?" He suddenly leaned forward. You didnt bother saying anything and sat back in the chair, "Why would I like you?"

Its been a week since your last interaction with jaemin. Literally. Theres been no pranking or anything. It was odd, but you couldn't stop thinking back to what he said when you both were alone in the cafe. Something about that kind of stung. You dont know why but, you thought maybe, just maybe, he'd actually like you. And maybe, jimin was right about about you liking him.

"Hey how was work?" Jimin asked getting up from the couch. You noticed taemin was here too and it wasn't surprising anymore as he's been coming over recently this past week.

"It was a bit busy actually." You smiled, nodding your head in taemins direction to acknowledge him and he smiled in return. Cute.

Jimin came back to his seat on the couch and handed you and taemin a clas of iced tea, "Jaemin didnt do anything again huh?"

You shook your head, "You don't understand how weird this is. Like he completely stopped interacting with me." You sighed taking a sip and seat next to taemin before ranting again, "Wait...oh my god! Did I get played? Was he really just trying to fuck me this whole time?"

"Fu- what?" Taemin zipped his head at you.

"Its a long story-"

"No its not," jimin cut you off, "basically hes kind of a bully to her and hes always doing pranks and saying some provocative things, but magically," he started flailing his hands, "jaemin started being nice, said he wanted to 'fuck her dumb' and then she was in his bed."

"....so you just...let your bully fuck you??" Taemin squinted his eyes at you and you nodded slowly. "Interesting. "

"I dont even know why. Like it just happened." You stuck out your bottom lip and laid you head on taemins shoulder, "I can't believe I did that..."

"It was bound to happen." Jimin sipped his tea.

You lifted your head slightly off of taemins shoulder and stuck your tongue out, "You know what fuck you!"

"You both are like kids." Taemin said, moving to get up.

"Hm?" Jimin looked up from his iced tea, completely obvious to what taemin said and taemin shook his head.

"I need to get back home. Jimin don't stay up too late." Jimin whined at his friend as taemin got up, "y/n, be good." You gave him a thumbs up and watched as the black haired man left.

"Jimin hes cute." You frowned.

Jimin rolled his eyes, "tell him that next time then."

You rolled over so now you were laying on jimins lap and he gave you a look of disgust, but you ignored it, "Mans is too cute for someone like me to say something."

"Dude he literally called you cute the first day he met you." Jimin said a matter of factly.

"How do you know he wasnt lying?"

Jimin scoffed, "Taemin lying? Thats like me and you dating. It just doesn't go together."

"I dont know if i should be offended or happy." You glared.

"The latter." He averted his eyes from yours and continued watching the show on t.v.

2 classes in and your were already tired. If you hadn't had stayed up so late with jimin, crying over some k-drama, maybe you wouldve gotten a good night sleep. But because of that you looked dead. You didn't even try to look your best this morning, only throwing on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and brushing your hair back. You thought you looked okay to some extent at least. Maybe not your normal self but at least you were presentable.

There's was only so much you could handle in your class right now too. Trigonometry was definitely not your strong suit and you wondered how you even got in this class.

People were hunched over doing their work and you were struggling with question one. It was a bit embarrassing. You looked to your right for answers but they were just as lost as you, so your left was your next move.

"I dont appreciate you cheating off my paper y/n." Jaemin whispered, making sure the professor didn't hear him.

"Sorry I'm just confused.." you grumbled, placing your pencil down, jaemin gave you a look.

"Maybe if you used your head you'd get it."

"Im not dumb jaemin."

He exhaled and rubbed his face with his hands, "Come over later ill help you."

You looked at jaemins partially completed paper then back at your blank one. You needed this if you wanted to pass but you also didn't want to be with jaemin at the moment and you weren't too sure what tricks the boy had up his sleeve.

"I dont think-"

"It wasnt a question." Jaemin then went back to his work, ignoring whatever protest you had as you were about to open your mouth.

It was at this point you even planned on not going later. The only thing is he really didn't like being disobeyed and you found him a bit scary when mad. It wouldnt be right to miss out on him tutoring you anyway because jaemin was a smart guy. With his help you should be able to pass easily given a few months.

The professor ended class a few minutes early. Jaemin and you both headed to your next class when someone tapped on your shoulder, making you curiously turn around.

"TAEMIN!" you leaped up and hugged the guy around his neck as he giggled with full cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

"I changed colleges since it was closer to where I was living, but I didnt realize you were here too!" He beamed.

Jaemin stood watching you both converse and giggle over small things. He wanted so badly to drag you away from taemin but he knew you weren't going to like him very much after that. But something about the two of you laughing and subtly flirting didnt sit right with him and he didnt know why. It wasnt jealousy because why would he be jealous with you? He didn't care about you in that way. So why was this making him angry?

"Y/n lets go to class." Jaemin interrupted the two of you.

"You can go ill be in shortly." You brushed him off as if he was nothing and began talking with taemin again. Jaemin despised it but listened to you and walked away.

You were happy taemin came to this school because now it gave you a chance to get closer with him. It was definitely the small crush that grew over the week that made you feel like a 14 year old girl whenever he said something remotely sweet.

Taemin and you stood just outside of the classroom door and you gave him a quick hug and good bye before heading into the room with a big smile.

Jaemin stared at you as you walked up the steps to your seat that was a few feet away from him. The smile plastered on your face made jaemin see how much of an impact taemin really had on you.

Seulgi and sana kept glancing back at you, snickering here and there. Something your not fazed by it anymore. Probably them planning another prank or something. You also felt another set of eyes behind you and looked back to see jaemin glaring at the back of your head. Wondering why he was doing that, you crooked your head to the side then faced the front again after not receiving any response from him.

Ten minutes passed and the professor never came. Students were still all around the room talking to each other and the room was noisy. You decided to just ignore everyone and focus on any work you could, everything other than trig. You were saving that for jaemin.

"Hey nana," jaemin looked away from you and gazed up at seulgi who was now standing in front of him, "theres a party later at Wendy's and joys house. You coming?"

You put the pencil down and started biting your nails, wondering what he would actually say, not that he would ditch on you, but still.

"Im working later." He simply said, seulgi rolled her eyes playfully.

"Ill come pick you up after just bring clothes."

Jaemin raised a brow, "ill be too tired to go."

He was starting to get on seulgis nerves as she grit her teeth, "Then ill come over after school."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes wondering why she was trying so hard. Clearly the boy didn't want to go, or at least go with her. You didnt understand how she couldn't see that.

"Can't im helping someone with trig after."

She leaned over his desk, jaemin not really fazed by anything as she kept coming closer, "I have a feeling you're lying nana."

"Why would I lie?" He replied stoic. "Y/n is coming over for help."

Its the way that literally everyone in the room looked back at jaemin and you. Such a weird pair. Now they really would be questioning the two of you.

You anxiously looked back at him, seulgi was up in his face, nose flared, jaemin remained still and not intimidated by her or the class. But you were ready for someone to say something.

"Whats with you and y/n all of a sudden?" Seulgi asked. You could tell she didn't want you to go over his house, that was pretty obvious, but its not like she could stop you.

"Nothing, she just needs help in trig."

The class was still silent, even after a good 30 seconds. Now you just wanted the professor come in and talk about some WW2 stuff so people would ignore this. But your were pretty sure your professor just didn't want to teach and stayed home for the day.

"You dont need to help her." She faked a smile when she glanced back at you. "Shes a smart girl."

Jaemin was just about ready to get up and walk away, "I want to help her pass, now I do believe your seat is over there." he pointed over to the middle row of seats, just a few before yours. Seulgi actually took the hint and walked away. Her eyes were trained on yours and she looked as if ready to say something but decided against it.

God, now you just wanted to leave.

Jaemin placed a notebook and an open textbook on trig in front of you. His eyes watched as you hesitated to do your homework. You would get ready to write then lean back in confusion. For you, something was just not clicking with the whole trigonometry thing. You even started to wonder why you were taking it.

"Look this is what you have to do." Jaemin sat up and took the pencil out of your hand and went through the steps. Despite him being shockingly good at explaining and teaching, you found yourself lost at his words and just started staring at his side profile. Admittedly, you had to say he was pretty. And his lips as he was talking made you hypnotized. They looked soft and you wondered if you'll ever be able to feel them again.

"Repeat what I had just said."

You snapped out of your thoughts and hesitated, looking back at the paper then slowly began going over what you remembered until you started stumbling over your words and then stopped when he placed his hand on your thigh.

Jaemin exhaled loudly, sounding very disappointed in you and the only thing you could do was wait for whatever he had to say, "Why aren't you paying attention to nana?" His voice remained the same, but his nickname was a complete contrast.

"Im sorry I was distracted..."

"Distracted." Jaemin raised an eyebrow, "Theres nothing here to distract you."

Although you wanted to say he's been distracting you, you most certainly didn't and spared yourself the embarrassment.

"Y/n whats distracting you?" Jaemin set aside the pencil and gave you his full attention. Yet you remained silent and let him figure it out himself. But he knew, you were pretty easy to read. This is why he tapped your thigh, trying to get an answer out of you.

"You already know. Why do I have to say it?"

"I wanna hear it come out of your mouth." Jaemin shrugged.

"Jaemin..." you mumbled staring at your blank notebook, "Can we just move on?"

"Say it first." Consequently jaemin only made things worse by moving his hand up and down on your thigh in a taunting manner. One way or another he'll make you flustered.

"Youre clearly the distraction now can we please move on. We only have an hour and a half until work." You blushed.

A playful smirk found its way to his lips as he hummed in agreement. His hand still rested on your thigh and he once again tried explaining the problem in front of you. Granted, your phone went off in the middle of his second attempt of explaining.

"Taemin texted me hold on." You reached to grab your phone but jaemin was faster. He took your phone and threw it on the bed behind him.

"Pay attention." Jaemin had said. But you decided to be a bit stubborn and decided to get up and grab your phone, but jaemin had other plans. Hence why now you were stuck in a death grip on his lap with a hand to your neck. You couldn't see his face, but you knew it was cold. Jaemin didn't like to be disobeyed even for a second. "You only listen to me when I make a move, so do I have to keep you in this position for you to do your work?" You quickly shook your head and tried to wiggle out of his strong grip, but jaemin wouldn't let you go. Particularly because he figured you'd try and grab your phone again, which in that case, wasn't going to happen. If you so desperately wanted to pass, hes going to make you pass. Jaemin doesn't care even if he has to go as far as disciplining you either. As long as you pass, he'll be fine.

"You dont want to disappoint nana right?" You shook your head again. "You have a voice, use it."

"N-no.."

Jaemin hummed and let go of your neck, still keeping you on his lap. "Now be a good girl and listen. This is the last time I'll repeat myself."

So then you listened. Certainly because jaemin would not hesitate in making you regret any decisions you had.

After his third explanation, you understood the whole process a bit more and began doing your work. Jaemin was happy to see you do the problems, only pointing out a few mistakes, but praising you after for getting them right. You'd try your best not to smile or blush by putting your head down or looking away. Jaemin found it cute and couldn't help but smile himself.

"Lets get ready for work." Jaemin tapped your thigh for you to get up then he made his way to the closet to find clothes.

"Do you have a white t-shirt I can use?" You asked and jaemin threw you a shirt. Luckily for you the dress code was white on top, black on bottom so you didn't need to worry about the pants.

The both of you changed swiftly, not really caring about each others presence as you've already seen each other naked.

Without warning, jaemin dragged you out the his car, not bothering to give you a chance to say you wanted to drive yours. And you both were off.

It was a silent car ride besides the soft music playing on the radio. Jaemin kept you occupied with a hand resting on your thigh. He had a nice hand, you weren't gonna lie, but besides you gawking at his hand, it really did keep your mind focused. Not even the streets filled with so much activity could make you stop staring. It came to the point where you ended up grabbing his hand and played with his fingers.

"If you like my hands so much maybe I should use them on you again." Jaemin said, your breathing stopped for a second and you faced him.

"I just... find your hands nice thats all. Nothing sexual nana." You emphasized his nickname with a mocking tone. But in reality it was a very lowkey sexual desire to have him feel you up again, or even finger you. Whatever it was, you didn't want to admit it.

Parking the car, you and jaemin went inside the cafe to find it was again very busy. Irene was at the register helping a customer with their order and when she glanced up, you could've sworn she saw a ghost.

She finished the order and looked between you two, "Am I missing something?" She asked, pointing a finger at you guys as if accusing you, "you never come in together nor even walk inches next to each other."

"Y/n was at my house because I was tutoring her for school, so I drove her here too." Jaemin responded and you nodded in agreement. Still, irene found this crazy.

"Okay...just get to work then..." she squinted her eyes. Jaemin was the first to get to the stations, followed by you who made sure to look at the orders on screen.

After a while of making coffees, teas, and such you decided it was time for a break, so you asked irene if you can just take a seat for a bit to which she said yes.

Only a few tables remained empty, you took one near a window so you could see what was happening outside. Nothing different. Some teenagers fooling around on the sidewalk, couples passing by, and people rushing to get to their jobs. Meanwhile you never noticed someone sitting in front of you until they blew into your ear.

"Ahhh, what the fuck taemin!" Frowning at the sudden intusion, taemin laughed at your shocked face and sputtered many apologies. Many of which you knew he didnt mean.

"How long have you been sitting there?" You leaned over the table asking.

Taemin naturally leaned over too, getting closer to your face, "Just got here." He smiled, "I texted you that I was coming but you never replied."

You pouted in realization that that was when jaemin decided to discard your phone on his bed and not allow you to get it back. "Sorry I was being tutored for trig."

"Its fine." He pinched your cheeks, the smile never left his face once he finally saw a shade of red on your cheeks. Moreover, the two of you kept conversing for about 5 more minutes. Taemin talked about how jimin was bored all day from not seeing you at home so he went over to comfort him. You chuckled at the thought of jimin sadly laying against his friend and playing video games, trying not to feel bored. It made you happy that you had that kind of impact on him, knowing damn well no matter how much he said he said you weren't fun, that was a lie.

"I have to go. I'll make sure to come by later." With that taemin and you stood up and gave each other a hug. What surprised you was the lips on your cheek, giving you a bunch of butterflies in your stomach. "Bye y/n." Taemin winked and walked out the cafe.

Alarmed and flustered by what happened, you steadily walked back to the counter and just stopped there.

One might consider that to be a cute thing to see in a cute little cafe but jaemin thought otherwise and he was quite literally done with this.

"Come here." Jaemin made a finger motion to you and took you to the back of the cafe, away from the bustling people. "Whats with you and that taemin dude?"

"Why do you care?" You tilted your head up at him with a smirk. If you can manage to successfully push jaemins buttons and walk away with it, this would be the best day ever.

Jaemin took your chin in his index and thumb, bringing your face closer, "I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

"I dont have to answer if I dont want to." You tried swatting his hand away from your chin but he only moved down to your neck, causing you to gasp at the sudden squeeze. Basically, jaemin was choking you out of jealousy. "H-hes just m-my friend." You stuttered as you told the truth expecting jaemin to now let go, but he only softened his grip.

"I hate him."

"You dont know him." You mocked back and jaemin lazily rolled his eyes.

"I dont care if I dont know him I hate the fact that hes with you." Jaemin growled, letting your neck go.

You took the chance to let out a laugh at his frustrated face. This was entertaining to you and for once you had the upper hand, "so youre saying you're jealous?"

Roughly, jaemin slammed your back against the building with his face only mere centimeters from yours. You could smell the scent of mint in his breath too. "Maybe I am." Jaemin pushed a knee between your legs. "Shouldnt mess with my girl. And you shouldn't have let him kiss your cheek." Jaemins lips hovered over your lips. His hands harshly gripped your hips, moving you them over his thigh. Hearing the sound of you moaning out in shock, jaemin captured your lips in a kiss, a rough one at that.

His anger was through the roof and he showed that. "Youre mine and only mine. I'm the only one who can touch you like this, kiss you like this." Jaemin kissed down your jaw, still grinding your core on his thigh. You tried silencing your whimpers by biting your hand, but jaemin was quick to stick his fingers in your mouth, causing you to gag and choke.

Without a moments hesitation, jaemin pulled away from your neck to watch you suck around his fingers and he laughed through an angry aura, "If only taemin could see how much of a slut you are for me, maybe he would back off." You whined around his fingers and he pushed deeper down your throat. Your hips stuttered a bit, but kept moving forward, trying to get more friction.

"Such a stupid little girl for nana." Jaemin ruthlessly began fucking your throat with his fingers, "Are you gonna cum out here? What if somebody walks out and sees?" Your eyes rolled back and jaemin hummed still keeping the pace with his fingers and helping you move your hips. "Aww but I bet you wouldn't care. Since your so eager to cum and all." You gripped his wrist becoming more and more desperate to reach your high. Indeed you were so close that you started seeing stars, but jaemin pulled his thigh and fingers away.

"Were you about to cum?" He laughed in your face sadisticly. Your face heated up in embarrassment. "Stupid girl."

Cooing at your red face, jaemin brought you into another kiss, much softer than before but enough to know who's in charge.

"Lets get back to work, yeah?" Jaemin tapped your cheek with his two fingers and walked away leaving you hot and bothered.

Naturally you wouldve followed but you literally almost came in your pants just outside of your work. What were you thinking letting jaemin do that to you? And why did he have such an affect on you to the point that you forgot about what happened with taemin. You couldn't stand out here any longer and went inside. Jaemin was calm as if you didn't almost just get off on his thigh and sucked his fingers off. God this boy was doing something to you and you couldn't take it!

Working next to him seemed even more difficult. You were a hot mess, plus you were horny and honestly jaemins existence wasn't helping. And now, especially now, you realized that lasting until 8:30 was going to be a train wreck.

The school day was normal, yeri was hyper as always and cracking jokes making you spit out your banana milk. And her constant teasing about jaemin was nothing different. Of course you told her what happened the other day, she's your best friend, and she was blown away. Yeri wasn't expecting such news to be dropped on her like that and you couldnt blame her, only shrugging your shoulders and sipping your banana milk.

Stopping mid sip, you saw the boy you were subtly looking for; jaemin. Your reason? Well even you didn't know but your for sure were going to come up with something.

For the past few days jaemin never left your mind. Even when you saw him he always lingered. You could say you missed him. Besides that, taemin was never on your mind anymore. Just jaemin. It was like your mind needed him.

So you got up from your seat, yeri looked up confused and watched as your legs took you to your destination. Your heart was beating rapidly and you weren't even sure how this would go. Either you'll die from embarrassment or be the happiest girl alive. It was the anticipation.

You sucked in a deep breath once you got to him, jaemin peered up at you with curiosity, some other students even found your boldness interesting, until you spoke, "Wanna go out with me?"

[silverstarsheep]

Oh man, it’s a fic for the “Coffee Shop AU,” which is lead by @doodledrawsthings​.

I started this really early on and wrestled with it a lot, so things changed and shifted a bit since I started writing it. Looking at the new stuff vs. old, I’m surprised what details I got accurate, and not at all surprised at what I got wrong. Quite a lot of it is super super SUPER inaccurate, sorry.

This is more or less my take on Luka’s transformation, so... Take it for what you will, haha.

I also finished it a while back, but never had the guts to actually post it for one reason or another--I may as well post it anyway, since it’s gotten this far.

Word count: 6,749

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

Luka nearly flew out of the restaurant and into the cooler-than-normal evening air, stumbling down a few of the steps leading to the door. The sound of rain could be heard all around him--it hadn’t let up since he arrived. Standing underneath the awning with his umbrella cradled in the crook of his right arm, he stuffed both hands into his pockets, puffing out a frustrated sigh. His face was burning hot, and his chest was tight with indignation.

He should have known that a call to “make amends” from Vanessa was going to be a big, fat lie. Luka’s brow creased, and he stared at the damp pavement beneath the bottom step, silently wondering why he had ever thought that such would have been the case. During the legal battles of divorce and custody, that vile woman more than demonstrated her ice-cold and vitriolic feelings towards him.

Maybe, deep down, he still felt something for her... And he did truly want to make amends. Too bad the same wasn’t true for Vanessa.

Popping his umbrella open, he finally trotted down the rest of the stairs and to the sidewalk. It was about time that he went home, but along the way he needed to pick up little Harriet from her friend’s house. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind walking in the rain, but somehow he doubted she would.

As he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but shiver. Frown creasing his features further, he thought to himself, “Wasn’t it supposed to be in the 70′s tonight?” If only he had worn a thicker sweater... If it got any colder, he would have been able to see his breath!

To make matters worse, in the corner of his eye Luka could make out little white dots bouncing around on the ground. Pace slowing a bit, it wasn’t long before he was hearing heavier objects hitting his umbrella. Hail?! For pity’s sake, can’t he catch a break for just a second? Holding the umbrella tight, he started to run down the sidewalk, having to skid to a halt when he realized that he had nearly overshot his friend’s house.

Bounding up the porch, he knocked on the door, drumming his fingers against the umbrella’s handle. The door opened, however instead of being met with her caregiver, he was instead met with the very small, curly-haired Bonnie. She stared up at him with her big, purple eyes for a moment, then gave him a toothy grin.

“Hi!” she chirped. She looked over her shoulder, “Ms. Tina! Mr. Luka is here!”

“Tell him to come in, please!” he could hear a woman’s voice call from inside. Tina must have been making dinner.

The smell of steamed vegetables hit his senses in just the right way, causing his stomach to growl a little. However as he took in a deep breath, Luka’s throat felt rather sore. Not wanting to assume the worst, he simply brushed it off as him having raised his voice a bit too much when he spoke with Vanessa. The conversation did get quite heated, after all--but with Vanessa, one could say that she was always chilling.

Bonnie motioned for him to come inside as she skipped into the living room herself. The home was comfortably warm, a welcome change from the cold, wet outside. She flopped back onto the floor right next to Harriet, who was lying on her stomach and holding a purple crayon in a crab-like vice grip. She looked up and smiled.

“Oh, hi, dad!” she kicked her legs up into the air and drew both arms to her chest, “Did it go okay with mom...?”

“Hey, kiddo.” Luka replied with a sigh. He didn’t reply at first, trying to think over his response. Standing in the door frame he shook his folded umbrella off over the porch, then placed it inside beside the door. He could feel Harriet’s eyes piercing into him.

“Sorry to say, it didn’t go so well,” he finally stated, his shoulders slumping significantly. His daughter was young, but he knew she was smart. There was no sense hiding it, but the look of disappointment on her face made him feel regret tweak at his heart.

Bonnie spoke up, “She didn’t use any of her,” the girl wiggled her fingers in a “mysterious” fashion, “Eeevil magic on you, did she?”

Blinking, Luka couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, no... She didn’t!” he grinned, “But if she did,” he grabbed his umbrella and brandished it like a sword, droplets of water scattering about, “I would’ve fought her off!”

When the two girls giggled at his display, Luka relaxed a bit. For Harriet, laughter was a powerful tool in these harsh times. First and foremost, making her happy and keeping her healthy was his biggest goal.

Just as he set the umbrella back down, Bonnie’s caregiver, Tina, stepped into the living room. She gave Luka a warm smile, “Hey! It sure sounds like it’s coming down out there, did you manage to stay dry?”

“I’m mostly dry, but it started hailing on the way here!”

Tina blinked, her dark brown eyes wide, “Hail?” she asked in a doubtful tone, “This time of year?” she made way towards the still open door and peered through it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “Wow! Isn’t that something...” she squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, “Well, I can’t let you walk home in that...”

“It surprised me, too,” Luka huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Would it be too much to wait it out here?”

“Not a problem at all!” she flashed Luka a bright smile, “I can add some more to the dinner if you’d like to stay! Once Honey gets here, we can have a nice, big meal!”

Closing the door, Luka shot a glance to his daughter, “What do you think?” he asked, having to clear his throat, “Wanna eat dinner here?” his throat was starting to feel worse. Was he suddenly coming down with a cold, or something?

The girl threw both arms into the air, nearly tossing her crayon in the process, “Yeah!! Ms. Tina’s food is the best!”

Tina laughed in a merry way, then started for the kitchen once more. She muttered quietly to herself as she thought about how many more vegetables to steam, how many patties to fry... However she stopped in her tracks when Luka gently flagged her down.

“Need any help?” he asked. There was a sudden weight on his shoulders, as if someone had put a thick blanket over him. Despite this, he didn’t want to impose on such a good friend, especially after she had so kindly watched his daughter!

The woman smiled brightly and gave a wave of her hand, “Oh no! It’s a real simple meal tonight, but it’ll be delicious all the same,” she motioned to the couch, “Why don’t you watch the girls? That’d be a mighty help.”

“S-sure,” he replied, clearing his throat again, “But can I,” he cleared his throat again, this time ending with a small coughing fit, “Mmh, can I get a glass of water?”

Concern creasing her brow, Tina replied, “Well sure... Are you alright?”

With slow and careful movements, Luka took a seat, “Hm... All of the sudden, I’m not...” he rubbed at his face, it was burning hot, “I’m not feeling so great...”

“Dad, your face is all red!” Harriet remarked in shock.

“Goodness, she’s right!” Tina leaned over him, gently placing her hands on his arm and back, “Maybe you should go home and rest up!”

Brow creasing, Luka rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm. He took a moment to answer, but eventually nodded. Going home would be best... If he was getting sick, he didn’t want to risk making anyone else ill.

“Okay, Bonnie,” Tina said with a clap of her hands, “Get your shoes on.” when Bonnie rushed to her room to grab a pair of socks, Tina turned back to Luka, “Don’t you worry, I’ll drive you over. It’s not far, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk there, especially in hail.”

Luka merely nodded in agreement, however he looked to Harriet, “Hey, kiddo... You wanna spend the night here...?”

She shook her head briskly, her ponytail slapping the side of her face, “No! I need to make sure you’re okay, dad!” she said firmly. She went to the door to grab her shoes. Well, looks like that was settled...

Once Bonnie and Harriet had gotten their shoes on, the four of them piled into Tina’s mini van, and were off.

Trying to keep himself awake, Luka attempted to make small talk, “So... How’s it been fostering Bonnie?” he asked.

Tina smiled, “It’s been going wonderfully, but...” she sighed as they reached a stop sign, “We’re nearing the end of the 13 month care...”

Luka gripped his seat belt with both hands, “Have you and Honey... Considered adopting her?” he asked in a hopeful tone

Smile faltering, Tina seemed to hesitate before easing on the brakes, “Yes, but... Getting the paperwork cleared has been a struggle. Honey and I haven’t had any luck...”

“Ah, sorry... Maybe I can help you clear things up a bit?” Luka offered. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“I’d appreciate that, and I’m sure Bonnie would, too!” Tina chimed with a toothy grin, “You need to put all that law studying to good use, huh?”

With the vehicle thoroughly pelted with hail, and a couple blocks later, they pulled into Luka’s drive. The father-daughter pair said their goodbyes and quickly retreated inside, however the hail was finally starting to subside. Now that they were home, it was time to get Harriet some supper.

Frankly, he wasn’t feeling very hungry himself, but one way or another he had to make sure that his daughter ate. He shambled into the kitchen and pried open the fridge--the seal was oddly tighter than usual--where he produced a frozen kid’s meal. Harriet stood in the door frame, watching him with worry in her eyes. She wrung her little hands nervously.

“Dad, I can make it myself!” she urged. She knew how to use the microwave...! It was just a little hard to know how many zeros to put on it when cooking something, and she often forgot to stir it halfway through... But she didn’t mind eating it a little cold! Honest!

Luka pulled a knife from the drawer and started poking holes into the film. He glanced over his shoulder with a weak smile, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” he said with a low voice. Using his head, he motioned for her to go to the bathroom, “Why don’t you kick off your shoes and wash your hands?”

Hesitating, Harriet bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to leave her dad alone... But if she was quick about it, then it wouldn’t be a problem! Maybe she could even grab her stool from the bathroom so she could reach the microwave buttons, and kitchen sink. Then she could make her dad a meal, too! The girl rushed deeper into the house without another word.

In the bathroom, Harriet made quick work of washing her hands, knocking over the soap bottle in the process of dispensing some of the foam onto her hands. She’d pick it up later! As she rushed to rinse her hands, she noticed her dear owl plush, Professor Popcorn, sitting by the sink. She had to rinse off his dear little beak this morning, and she must have left him there when she heard she was going to visit Bonnie.

Wringing her hands dry on a towel, she picked him up carefully, “Professor!” she cried, “Dad’s feeling sick, what do we do?”

She tried to imitate the voice her father would use when speaking for the owl by making her voice sound deeper, “Hm, I say that a hot bowl of soup will fix him right up!” she waved the plush around gently to make it look like he was talking.

“You’re right, Professor Popcorn!” Harriet confirmed with a nod, “Dad loves chicken soup, and we got a can of it! I can heat it up in the microwave!”

“I’ll help you read the instructions!” she had the professor conclude, manipulating his wing to adjust his glasses.

Meanwhile, Luka’s time was starting to get harder. His vision was getting hazy, his head was spinning, and his entire body felt sore. Dark splotches obscured his vision, and it almost looked as though his own arms were starting to turn dark.

Rubbing at his forehead with his knuckles, there was a loud clatter as the knife tumbled out of his hands and fell to the floor. Thankfully it didn’t land anywhere near his foot, however it was curious; he had a tight grip on that between his finger and thumb.

Pain snaked its way through his body as he leaned over to pick it up, causing him to grit his teeth and close his eyes tightly. He froze in place, one hand pressed against the counter top as one reached for the ground. Sweat began to pour from his brow in droves, drip, drip dripping onto his arm and the floor. At that point he had dared to open his eyes, and his stomach did a back-flip when he saw the state of his hand.

It... Wasn’t his hand anymore, or at least, it didn’t look like his hand. It had been replaced with a paw-like two-fingered hand that was a deep shade of purple. Said purple was slithering up his arm with snake-like tendrils. Losing his grip on the counter, Luka only managed to gasp as he fell roughly onto his knees. He looked to his right hand, which was much the same--thumbless and purple. No wonder he had dropped the knife! The purple substance had reached well past his elbow there.

The lights above flickered as fear struck his heart. With clumsy movements he tried to manipulate his new “hands” to try and scrape and push the purple stuff off of him, but all that succeeded in was sending droplets of purple onto the tiled floor. His arms remained unchanged, and the color only seemed to pick up the pace as it soon reached his shoulder and crept up his neck.

Bowling over as pain overtook him, Luka wrapped both arms around his stomach and pressed his forehead against the now-damp floor. His jaw was locked open, his eyes were as wide as saucers, and his vision was filled with a golden light as tears streamed from them.

Fabric ripped and shredded as his form shifted and grew. The lights buzzed as they flickered wildly. A mane sprouted from his neck, ripping and tearing his shirt further. It didn’t take long for his entire body to be shrouded in the purple tone. Finally, when his legs began to twist together, Luka let out a scream.

The kitchen lights burst. The house was shrouded in darkness.

When the lights began to flicker, Harriet clutched Professor Popcorn close to her chest, gasping in fear. She hated it when the power went out! She closed her eyes as the lights buzzed.

“D-dad?!” she cried. That was when she heard his scream, and her heart fluttered. She yelped when the lights went out, and without thinking about it she jumped from her stool and rushed into the hallway. However her pace slowed, her hand gently guiding her along the hall when she heard an inhuman panting from in the kitchen.

It sounded like there was some kind of monster in there... But monsters weren’t real, right? Dad always told her that she had nothing to be afraid of under her bed or in her closet... So the only thing that should be in the kitchen was her dad....

Right?

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and every fiber in her body was telling her to run away, to hide under her bed until the power came on, or her dad coaxed her out... But despite her wanting to scream at her legs to stop, they carried her all the way to the kitchen door.

The house was dark, but there was just enough light for Harriet to see. In the kitchen, however, it was as if something had absorbed all of the light. It was pitch black, and she couldn’t make anything out--even the window had turned black.

Harriet fought back her tears. She was so frightened that she could barely speak, but she just had to make sure her father was ok. She finally managed to speak up again with a squeak, “Dad...?”

Something in the darkness moved. She could hear it shuffling about. Slithering around like a giant snake. Her grip around her plush tightened, and her heart nearly sprung into her mouth. A set of bright, golden eyes appeared in the darkness, illuminating a bit of the kitchen with yellow light. She could just make out the shape of the eye’s owner--big and purple, with a scruffy-looking mane. It had a long, long body, and two arms that propped it up.

Around it were scraps of clothes and little puddles of a dark liquid. In the dim light she couldn’t tell what color those were, but her imagination quickly filled in the blanks--blood.

It was blood. It was her father’s blood. Whatever monster this was had ripped her dad to ribbons and ate him, leaving nothing but his shredded clothing behind.

Harriet’s mouth dropped open, but nothing escaped her throat but air. Tears were streaming from her eyes. The monster opened its own mouth, revealing its wicked, sharp fangs. More golden light spilled out into the kitchen from the beast’s maw. Its breathing was raspy. It shuffled about and moved its mouth as if trying to speak.

“Ha... Harri....” it croaked. It almost sounded like her father. Chills washed through the girl’s tiny body, and her hairs stood on end, “Ha.. rriet...” oh peck, it knew her name!

It reached out to her with inhuman fingers. Frozen in place, Harriet hadn’t a single clue what to do. Her legs continued to refuse to listen to her--now that she wanted to move, they were suddenly cemented to the carpet. She whimpered pathetically.

Hot fingers brushed against her cheek, the tips of claws gently caressing her face. Harriet inhaled. Then she shrieked. As loud as she could she screamed bloody murder, and the monster shrank back in shock. Her legs finally listened to her, and she bolted for the door, which she flung open and didn’t think to close behind her.

“W... Wai... Wait!!” the monster called. But it fell on deaf ears.

Not only did Luka’s body ache, but his heart did, too. He never wanted to frighten his daughter, he never wanted to make her feel unsafe or in danger. But now, it almost seemed as though he had no choice. Whatever form he had taken on mortified the poor child, and now she was running into the late evening streets, completely unprotected.

He had to go after her. He had to make sure she was safe, and he had to let her know that her dad was still here, despite not looking the same anymore. He attempted to push himself upright, however he quickly realized that he no longer had legs. When they had twisted together in such a painful manner, they had fused together to make one long tail. There was no way he could chase after her like this!

He’d just have to drag himself, then. With his arms he began to haul himself past the tile, over the carpet, and through the door. As he lowered himself off of the porch, he realized that his body was remarkably light. He had no issue dragging himself across the ground, and now that he was on the stairs, he felt as though he were...

Floating?! He could float? There wasn’t any time to question it... He’d just have to take it as a blessing in disguise and hope that he could use it to his advantage. He pushed himself off of the ground, and much to his surprise, he remained in the air. Twisting his body this way and that like a snake, he quickly found that this mode of transportation was much faster than crawling around like a newborn. As he got the hang of it, he could pick up the pace.

Man, he hoped no one would see him like this...

Rounding the corner, Luka looked this way and that until he caught a glimpse of Harriet, who was bolting down the sidewalk towards the park. He gasped, “Harriet!” his voice boomed. It echoed and carried throughout the subdivision, causing a few dogs to start barking in shock. Even Harriet was surprised, and she tripped over her own feet and smacked into the pavement.

Luka clapped a hand over his mouth. Goodness, did his voice carry! He was sure to be seen now. Before he could catch up to her, his daughter had picked herself up and was running with new strength across the road to the park. Her beloved owl doll lay limp on the cracked pavement.

“W-wait, please, wait!” Luka called, pathetically trying to moderate his voice, “Hatty, please!” he hoped that the fond nickname would cause her to pause, but she kept on running. If he could have seen her face, he would have noted that her eyes were screwed shut. Thank goodness no cars were coming...

Making haste to pick up the doll, Luka was hot on Harriet’s tail. He could hear a few people poking out of their houses nearby, which only made him speed up. He quickly hopped over the brick wall and started his search for Harriet, looking in, around and under anything that she could have been inside of.

Finally, he found her huddled in the corner of one wall, concealed by a bush coated in flowers. She was shaking like a leaf and trying her hardest to hold back terrified sobs. Coiling himself inside the bush, he hoped that it would be enough to hide himself as he tried to console his daughter.

“Harriet?” he cooed. His voice was still too loud, even as he tried to whisper. It didn’t sound right, “Harriet, it’s me--it’s...”

She pushed herself further into the corner, turning her head towards the wall. She sobbed quietly, and Luka’s lower lip trembled.

“Sweetheart, please--please don’t be...”

This time Harriet sobbed louder, hiccuping into her knees. Luka shrank back a little looking at his empty hand. Could he really console her like this? When he looked and sounded like a monster? He then looked to the plush he held in his right hand. Professor Popcorn... Maybe this could help.

Holding the owl out, Luka tried to hide his face behind the plush as he put on the special voice he always used for the dear old professor, “H-hey there, kiddo! It’s me, Professor Popcorn!” the owl waved his little wing, and Harriet lifted her head. Luka dared to crack a weak smile, “I know things are really scary right now... But I just want ya to know that everything’s gonna be O-KAY!”

Harriet turned, staring intently at the doll. The way he moved, the way he spoke... It was exactly like how her dad would talk when they played together. Sure, his voice sounded a little... Scary, but the tone, the inflections... They were all the same.

“And that I love you...” Luka’s voice started to seep into Professor Popcorn’s, “Very, very much...”

Harriet dared to look up. Through the branches and leaves she could make out the monster’s face, his eyes glowing faintly. As he took on a gentle expression and leaned forward, she could almost see her father’s face in its features...

“... Y-you... Dropped him while you were running...” Luka continued, “I know how much you hate it when his beak gets dirty.”

Tears were spilling from her eyes again, and she shuffled about anxiously. Was it? Could it be?! Her eyes darted up and down his body, doubts still sprouting in her mind. But all the same, she wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true, because it was an awful lot better than her dad being gone.

“Da... aad??” she hiccuped. Luka smiled weakly and nodded. With a loud sob she jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his scruffy-looking purple mane, which was surprisingly soft. She buried her nose into it, drinking in his smell. He looked different, he sounded different, but now she knew, this was her dad.

Wrapping his hands around her tiny frame, he gently rubbed the back of her head, whispering into her ear, “Shhh... It’s okay, it’s okay...” he took in a shaky breath, “I’m still here, dad’s still here...”

Harriet continued to sob. She must have been so frightened. Guilt stung at his chest, knowing that he was the cause of her terror... However he nearly jumped when she started to spurt out apologies. He backed away, his brow creased.

“What are you apologizing for?”

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Harriet hiccuped again and sniffled, “I... I thought you were a m-monster,” she replied, “An... And you ate my dad... I ha-hated you for a little bit...”

Carefully cradling her shoulders in his hands, Luka shook his head, “No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, Hatty. I... I’d be scared, too.” with one finger he wiped away a tear, “But you know, you’re very brave,” he added, “You looked me in the face now, and realized I wasn’t a monster.”

A little smile appeared on Harriet’s lips as she continued to sniffle, “E-even if you look like a monster,” she whispered, “I... I still love you, dad.”

Scooping up into his arms, Luka gave his daughter a tight squeeze. There was some relief that washed over him, knowing that his daughter still loved him despite all of this, however worry had started to snake its way into his mind. How was he going to care for her when he looked like this? He hadn’t even seen his own reflection yet, but considering how Harriet reacted, he wouldn’t be able to even face his best of friends...

Suddenly, there was a jab at his lower end, as if someone had prodded him with a stick. Crap, he had been seen! Tensing up, the length of his body coiled tighter as he held Harriet closer to his chest, protecting her from sight and harm with his torso. He must not have concealed himself enough. Curse this snake-like body!

“A-alright!” a man’s voice demanded, “Come out, y-you... Beast!”

Luka’s body went cold. What was he to do now?! Fear had pooled in Harriet’s eyes once again, and she clung to his mane as tightly as she could. He could feel her little body trembling.

“Come out or I’ll shoot!”

He realized he didn’t have a choice. He popped out from the bush, scattering leaves and flower petals everywhere. A group of ten or eleven adults had gathered, a few of them with children who were cowering behind their legs and clinging to their pant legs. The group gasped audibly, backing away as they erupted into distress.

“Oh gosh, it’s got a kid!” one shrieked. This caused a few screams within the group, and Harriet to try and hide.

“SOMEBODY CALL THE POLICE!”

“No, get animal control!”

“Roger, just SHOOT the thing, already!!”

The man in front, who was holding a hunter’s gun, was quite literally shaking in his boots. He aimed his weapon, but his moment of hesitation gave Luka enough time to react. He wanted a distraction, a diversion of some kind, and when he screwed his eyes shut he somehow willed it to be. The area was suddenly plunged into darkness as if the sun had been blotted out. Both his daughter and the group screamed, but it was more than enough of a distraction as he leaped over the brick wall and flew off in search of a proper hiding spot.

The two emerged from the darkness as if it were a bubble. Blinking rapidly, Harriet peered over her father’s shoulder, finding it curious that the darkness was in such a concentrated area.

“D-did you do that?” she squeaked.

Glancing over his shoulder, Luka was equally surprised at what he had done. Frankly, he didn’t want to even think about it, “I-I guess so...” he replied. He dreaded the idea that powers came with this monstrous form, but as he lifted them above the treetops in hopes that they’d look like a bird or lost kite, he realized that his say didn’t matter.

Harriet continued to grip his mane for security, her eyes drifting to the land below, “Uh... We’re getting kinda high...”

“Sorry, I don’t want them to catch us,” he glanced at his daughter, “Is it too high?” he tightened his arms around her.

“N-no... I kinda like it.” she admitted. She fell silent for a few moments more, watching the city go by beneath them. She eventually asked, “Where are we going?”

Luka bit his lower lip, “Not sure... Somewhere to hide until the neighborhood calms down.”

“Um... Why not that old movie theater they closed down?” she suggested, “That should be big enough.”

“That sounds good.” Luka whispered in reply. It’d have to do for now, seeing he could sneak in through one of the doors. Or at the very least, they alleyway would suffice as a hiding place.

Locating the old movie theater, Luka had to squeeeeeze his way into the alleyway, between the brick walls. Was it just him, or had he gotten larger? He felt so big and obvious already! There was no way he’d be able to fit inside the theater like this, so he just hoped no one would be coming into the alleyway, especially this late.

He lowered Harriet to the ground, “We’ll stay here for a while...” he whispered.

“Dad, we’ve gotta get some help!” Harriet cried, however she tried keeping her voice down, “We need to find someone who can turn you back to normal!”

Luka’s tail twisted itself into knots, and his expression turned dour, “I don’t know anyone that can fix this,” he sighed, looking at his hands, “And going out now, with everyone in a tizzy about a monster... That’d be asking for trouble.”

“What about Ms. Tina and Honey?” Harriet persisted, “They might be able to help! They’ve got a real big basement you can hide in!” she threw her arms in the air to demonstrate.

“Harriet...” he placed a paw on the top of her head, “... No, I’m sorry. I need to lay low for a while. At least let things calm down. It’s hard telling if anyone would believe me.”

“Bonnie would...” she pouted in reply.

Heaving a sigh Luka paused to think, placing his free hand to where his chin would have normally been. If he was going to be laying low for a time, he couldn’t keep Harriet with him, now could he?

If anyone found out that he was a monster, there would be no chance of him being able to keep Harriet’s custody. After such a long and difficult battle, that made his stomach churn. The idea of Harriet falling into foster care, or even worse, falling into the custody of Vanessa, made his stomach do back flips. What was the best option here? His expression grew grim, a frown etching itself deeper and deeper into his dark features.

“You okay, dad?”

“Hey,” he spoke up, “Why don’t I drop you off at Tina’s house? She and Honey can take care of you for a while.” he paused, “Until I can get this all sorted.”

“What?!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening, “No! No way!” she pushed her father’s paw off her head and pressed her hands against his chest, “I’m staying with you!”

“Harriet--”

“I don’t want to leave you!” her fingers wrapped around his fur, “And, and--you’d be lonely without me!” tears welled in her big blue eyes again, “You need someone to scout for you, to see if there are people around! What if something happened, and I never saw you again?!” the tears spilled over her cheeks and down her chin.

“Hey, hey...” Luka cooed, placing his all-too-massive paws on her shoulders, “Okay... Okay, you can stay with me...” he hoped that he wouldn’t regret that decision.

Smiling, Harriet wiped her tears away, “Mean it?”

“Yeah.” Luka nodded, “I mean it.”

Lying on the ground, Luka allowed Harriet to climb into his crossed arms. They remained silent for a time as he waited for enough time to pass. He wondered if anyone would be checking out their house. He certainly hoped not, but he could imagine that most of his neighbors would recognize Harriet as the “hat kid from down the street” without much problem. He sighed.

Harriet’s stomach growled, “Dad,” she gently tugged at a tuft of fur, “I’m hungry.”

Lifting his head, Luka frowned. Shoot, he didn’t finish making her that frozen meal, did he? And he didn’t have his wallet, either, “Ah, sorry kiddo... You’ll have to wait a couple more minutes before we can try to go home.”

“Hm...” her little face scrunched up in thought, “Oh, I know! There’s a restaurant nearby, I think! I can dig out some food from the trash!” before her father could object, she jumped out of his arms and ran off.

With a quick motion, Luka grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her in the air, “Oooh, no you don’t, kiddo!” she squirmed a little but quickly gave up, “I’m not letting you get a stomach bug, or eat a rat or something.” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Folding her arms over her chest, Harriet pouted, “Aw... What if I wanted to eat a rat?”

Lifting himself into the air, he plopped her back into his arms, “Well, you’re not gonna.” he glanced to the sky, which had gone completely dark, “It ought to be late enough for everyone to go back home...” . At least he’d be able to hide fairly well in the dark of the night.

There were a number of police cars around the neighborhood. Luka’s body had gone cold again, not wanting to think about what would happen if one of them spotted him. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, and then slid across the subdivision, keeping low to the ground and hiding in any shadows he could find. He crawled over fences, through backyards, and around houses until they finally reached their destination.

Their house was still pitch dark. A few police cars had just pulled away from the front--had they investigated the home? Luka chewed on his cheek, hoping that they had gotten everything they needed by now and were all gone.

“Dad,” Harriet whispered, “There are people in the front, how will we get in?”

Eyes drifting along the back wall, he decided that they’d just have to break in. How odd was that? Breaking into your own house... Well, it had to be done. Hovering to the windows, he attempted to peer inside of one, however his glowing eyes were all that reflected back at him. He scoffed in disgust.

“You ok?” Harriet asked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” he asked. When she nodded, he held her up to the window, “Take a look inside, and let me know if you see anyone.”

Cupping her hands around her eyes, Harriet looked through the window with a scrutinizing stare, “All clear!” she said. The pair repeated this process a few more times until they eventually concluded that the house was empty. What a relief!

“Okay, hold onto me,” Luka said. Once Harriet’s arms were wrapped around him, he located her room’s window, and pried his fingers underneath the frame. It took a bit of work, but he eventually managed to pry it open with a loud grunt, “Okay, go inside, and get your clothes.”

Harriet frowned, “We can’t say here anymore...?”

Drooping a bit, Luka shook his head, “Sorry... We can’t. Not with everyone suspicious of it, now.”

Despite her feelings, she complied and crawled through the window. As she went to find her suitcase, she turned to the window, “Can you help me...?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, Luka wasn’t sure he’d fit in her room, let alone through the window. But, he’d give it a shot. Pressing his head through the window, he found it to be quite the tight squeeze, but after a few attempts, he managed to get inside, knocking over a lamp in the process. The bulb shattered upon impact with the ground.

“Oh!” Harriet cried. Realizing she rose her voice a bit too much, she shrank back a little and lowered her voice, “Did you get smaller?” she asked. It wasn’t a significant change by any means--he was still massive--but he fit in her little room better than he did the alleyway.

“I don’t know,” Luka shrugged with a furrowed brow. Picking the lamp off the ground, he didn’t really know what to make of this. But there was no time to dwell on it! They had clothes and food to pack!

Harriet passed her favorite outfits over to her father, who carefully folded them into a purple-colored suitcase. A tight fit, but Harriet managed to find space for a few toys by cramming them in the pockets. They grabbed her back pack, dumping Harriet’s kindergarten books unceremoniously onto the floor. With a larger duffel bag in tow, the pair went into the kitchen to pack more supplies.

Harriet’s bag was filled with the lighter supplies--money, bandages, Luka’s phone, a lighter, and a number of other necessities. As he took a few items, such as bandages, from the bathroom, that was when he finally got a good look at himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection blankly at first, then his expression twisted into one of disgust. He turned away, not wanting to look at it any longer.

Back in the kitchen, the duffel bag was filled with whatever non-perishable foods Luka could find, as well as a pot or two. He double-checked everything in the bags, then slung the duffel over what shoulders he had. He had to tighten the strap to make sure it stayed in place.

Luka couldn’t think of anything else to pack, especially anything that wouldn’t weigh them down too much. He was certain that he’d think of more on their way out of the city, but at this point it was best to just get the both of them to someplace safe.

With everything in tow, Luka scooped Harriet into his arms, and slipped into the night, his sleek purple body blending perfectly in the dark. As he rose into the air, he ran a few options in his head; where they could hide, where they could find shelter, where they could get food... It was going to be terribly difficult for his little daughter, and he so desperately wished that he could have simply left her with a trusted friend instead.

Harriet spoke up when they were high enough to soar over buildings, pulling him from his thoughts, “Hey... Dad?”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“... Do you think mom was the one that did this to you?”

Luka fell silent, his tail jerking a bit. It was odd; until now, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. But as his stomach churned, he could only conclude that it was true. The drink Vanessa offered him, the sick feeling he got after leaving the restaurant, the horrific transformation. It all added up. Narrowing his eyes, he frowned deeply.

Five years later, Vanessa was just as petty as when Harriet was born.

“You know, I think you’re right.” he finally sighed, “Somehow I don’t think she’d be very willing to reverse it. For now, let’s just... Get somewhere safe.”

A pang of guilt flashed in Harriet’s eyes as she gently placed her hand against her father’s chest. She slowly nodded in reply, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Solemnly and in silence, the pair flew to the horizon, uncertainty following them like a storm cloud.

[c-rose2081]

Dragon Colds & Rose Petals

Love Like Dragons AU

Bevie | Huma (implied) | Gildry | Mal & Audrey BROTP

—

Evie Grimhilde was a happily married woman. She had been for nearly three months now, and it was marital bliss. But there was a small part of her that was still a lonely, single, Dragon mom. So when Ben walked in on her that day, struggling to keep the human thermometer in Mal’s mouth to take her temperature, he laughed.

Mal, her best friend and a five year old Isle Dragon, had been sick for the past two days. Evie wasn’t sure what brought it on, as Audrey - Ben’s Aurorian Dragon - didn’t seem to have anything. And of course that small, single, lonely dragon mom part of her reared it’s head. What if Mal was terminally ill? What if she died? What if Evie would wake up tomorrow and her best friend wouldn’t be there? It nearly sent her into hysterics. Coddling the cranky, tired spike menace was the only thing that could calm her.

Naturally, Mal hated it.

Ben, thankfully, was a level headed man, and he rescued poor Mal and quarantined her in another room. He then held Evie to his chest and quietly stroked her hair as she rattled off every possible dragon disease she found on the internet and their outcomes.

“I have a friend who’s a vet,” Ben told Evie when she had finally calmed down, holding her close as to keep her from spending the night with Mal - who was no doubt sleeping, “she comes and looks at Audrey every few months, I’m sure she’d be happy to give Mal a checkup,”

And so Evie agreed that a vet visit would be the best option, rather then trusting DragonMD. Of course, she wasn’t aware that Ben and this ‘vet’ were very close friends. Let alone that this ‘vet’ was a woman who he was apparently quite comfortable with. Uma was a pretty, muscly, dark skinned sort with long turquoise and white braids. She stood at least a head above Evie in height, and when she pictured a ‘vet’, Uma was quite far from what she was imagining.

“Uma!” Ben greeted with an open hug, “thanks for coming,”

“You’re lucky, Ben. I just got back into town,”

“Uma works in freight,” Ben explained to Evie, resting an arm around her waist as Uma pulled a rather large black duffle in behind her, “she travels a lot; it’s why you didn’t meet her at the wedding. Uma, this is my wife, Evie. I wrote to you about her,”

“Yeah; all good things thankfully. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Uma replied, Evie smiling in kind and taking her hand in a firm shake. The grip was incredibly strong, and the skin on her palms was callous, “Ben, I hope you don’t mind. But I brought Gil.”

“Who’s Gil?” Evie asked, brows popping up. She expected Gil to be a person, or perhaps a child. Having a large, horn-backed dragon wander in with a rose in his beak wasn’t what Evie expected at all. Like the day she had met Audrey, the girl yearned for her sketchbook, “oh my goodness,”

“I told you. Uma is great with dragons,” Ben laughed, “this is Gil,”

“My boyfriends dragon, actually,” Uma told Evie.

“I’ve never seen anything like him!” Evie exclaimed, jostling as ‘Gil’ nearly knocked her over when he came to bump the side of her leg with a wing.

“Sorry,” the sailor groaned, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the dragon by the back of the neck, “he’s really good with people, and gentle as they come. But he’s just so big,”

“What kind of dragon is he?” Evie asked, kneeling down to have a better look. Gil, unlike both Mal and Audrey, was built like a narrow turtle, and was armored like a tank. He had short legs with four toes each, and an articulated shell covering his nape, all the way down to his back legs. His tail was stubby, but sprouted four impressively long spikes, and his face was wide eye’d with a beak rather then a toothy maw. Gil’s wings, Evie noticed, folded inelegantly against the outside of his shell, a bit like messy accordion blinds. No doubt they were quite large in order to help such a bulky creature fly.

“Gil is a Coastal Dragon. They usually live out by the sea, in the sand,” Uma explained, heaving the creature to the side where he flopped to his belly unbothered, still holding the bright red flower in his beak, “Harry picked him up when he was traveling, and he’s been with us ever since. He’s a lazy beast,” Uma complained, tapping the creature’s shell with a boot, “doesn’t do jack-shit other then lay around all day,”

Evie couldn’t help but laugh at this, only to jump as Gil made a noise. It sounded almost like a tired, sad foghorn.

“He’s been crying like that all morning,”Uma drawled, “the minute he figured out I was coming here, he wouldn’t let me leave without him,”

“Why would he do that?” Evie asked, frowning slightly in confusion as Ben rubbed the back of his head and Uma glanced at him expectantly.

“Princess! Your boyfriend’s here!” Ben called out, his voice echoing through the tall vaulted ceiling of their house. Puzzled for a moment, Evie turned as Audrey’s birdsong reached her ear. It only took a second before the pink bullet - wings fully outstretched - glided into the room. Gil, who had previously been laying down, leapt up faster then Evie ever could’ve imagined for such a stocky beast. His accordion wings unfurled like a whip, and Uma tugged Evie backwards a step as he gave one powerful flap and was in the air.

“Sweet Merlin, he’s massive,” Evie breathed in wonder, watching as Gil captured Audrey in a mid-flight embrace, enfolding her between his arms and resting his large head on her crest, “are they...?”

“Together,” Ben confirmed with a nod, “it was a surprise to us to, once we figured it out,”

“Gil is romantic, the big lug,” Uma chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as Gil transferred the rose he’d been keeping to Audrey, who somehow managed to tuck it behind her ear flap in a very teenage-girl like manner, “he gets it from Harry, I think. Sorry about your rose bushes, Ben.” Uma admitted, grimacing slightly as Ben merely chuckled.

“It’s alright. The gardeners will take care of it,”

“Right then. So, you told me you had a sick dragon here?” Uma asked Evie, “and it’s clearly not Audrey,”

“My dragon, Mal, has been sick for a few days now,” Evie told the woman, returning to fretting over her best friend, “She’s really dull and tired, and even more cranky then usual,”

“Hm, that could be a number of things,” Uma pondered, heaving her black duffle up over one shoulder, “what breed is she?”

“An Isle Dragon. At least I think she is. I got the egg as a gift. Mom didn’t ever tell me where she got it from,”

“Well, let’s get to it then. I want out of here before Gil starts mimicking Audrey’s love songs,”

And so the trio left the foyer, heading upstairs into the large upper floor. Ben had made Mal her own special quarantine room. Audrey’s claw marks were all over the door’s painted exterior, showing where she’d been trying to get in earlier.

“I’ll have to talk to that girl,” Ben mumbled at reaching the door, ruffling his hair and groaning at the idea of having to fix the damage. Audrey wasn’t normally destructive, and Evie thought maybe she was coming down with something like Mal had. But Uma merely shook her head.

“It’s only natural,” she explained, opening the door and flicking on the light, “Audrey and Mal have probably already formed a family unit. It’s normal for one dragon to comfort another in times of pain or illness,”

“But Mal and Audrey quarrel constantly,” Evie complained, “they never get along,”

“Maybe so, but Dragons aren’t solitary in the wild. They build family units to survive. You did the right thing though, keeping Audrey out of here,” Uma admitted, kicking the door closed with a boot. Mal was laying in her basket, snoozing the day away unbothered by their entrance.

“I’m going to go call mom and dad,” Ben said to Evie quietly, “see if I can’t get someone down here to fix the door, and the bushes. You’ll be ok here with Uma?”

“Yeah. Love you,”

Sharing a quick kiss on the lips , Ben gave a half wave to Uma before skirting back out the door and vanishing.

“You two are good together,” Uma commented a little while later, removing a stethoscope from her bag and slinging it around her neck, “I was surprised when Ben said he was getting married,”

“Oh?”

Sinking down onto a low stool, Evie watched as Uma very carefully checked Mal’s heartbeat, “why do you say that?”

Uma switched the stethoscope for an ear tool as she began checking Mal’s ear holes.

“I dunno; it just never seemed like he could find the right fit. Hell, even we tried it out once,” Uma admitted with a laugh. This caused Evie’s stomach to drop like a rock. She didn’t mean for the green eye’d monster to make an appearance, but she couldn’t help it. After all, it had only been a few months, and she was nothing like Uma.

“Uh...why didn’t it work out? You and Ben?”

“Ah, we aren’t anything alike, really,” Uma said, satisfied with Mal’s ears and digging around in her bag for a moment, “I was always gone, you know? And of course Ben has his parents business to worry about. He needed someone who could keep up with him. Ah,” finding what she was looking for, Uma removed a small ‘T’ shaped device from the bag, “let’s just take the temperature,”

With a beep, Uma looked at the little digital screen and nodded. She put her tools away, removing a stuffed toy from inside her bag and tucking it under one of Mal’s fat arms.

“You, Evie, seem like just the right type for him,” Uma insisted with a sharp nod, rising from her place on the floor and wiping her hands on her jeans, “as for Mal, I suspect a cold is to blame for this. Where does she normally sleep?”

“Uh, up in the rafters above my bed. She used to sleep next to me, but I share a bed with Ben now. Audrey usually sleeps on her perch,”

“Ah. I suggest maybe installing a heat lamp up there, or building a nesting box. I think she’s getting to cold at night. Dragons are sensitive to that sort of thing,”

“I didn’t know,” Evie admitted, “thank you, Uma,”

“Anytime. I love Dragons, and Ben is still a great friend so I’ll help him out when I can. Anyway, Mal should be back to her normal self in a few days. Keep her warm and eating normally, and if anything changes, call me again and I’ll come back,”

“Can Audrey be allowed back in?” Evie asked, holding the door open for Uma to leave as the girl shook her head.

“No. Keep Mal in here and resting until she’s closer to her normal self. No need to risk Audrey catching whatever she has.”

“Ok. I can do that,” Evie nodded, following Uma back downstairs. Ben was standing in the yard out front, looking over the trampled rose bushes. Audrey and Gil were cuddled up within the broken branches, warm and content in a nest of prickly thorns and velvet petals.

“I think Gil might be more romantic then you, Ben,” Evie joked, looping her arm through her husbands as the man made an offended noise in his throat.

“So you want rose petals?” He asked, “I can do that,”

“Mhm, whatever you say,”

“So how’s Mal? Everything ok?”

“She’ll be just fine,” Uma restated, “Evie knows what needs to be done. As for you, Harry wants to get together at some point for a guys night.”

“Will do. I’ll call him and Jay when I have time,”

Bobbing her head in understanding, Uma gently prodded Gil with a toe through the nest, causing him to lift his head groggily.

“Alright, big fella. Kiss your girlfriend goodbye, we need to get going,”

Gil gave a sad little moan and Uma shook her head, “no complaints. I’m the captain here. Now kisses, and let’s go,”

Evie couldn’t help her little ‘awe’ as Gil reluctantly gave Audrey a little cheek nudge before standing and romping out of the bushes unhappily. Ben picked his own dragon up from the thorns, cradling her like a baby as she wailed dramatically.

“Do you cry like that every time I leave the house?” Evie asked as Uma hauled Gil into her Jeep, leaving poor Audrey heartbroken and hanging limply off Ben’s arm.

“No,” Ben insisted, using his free hand to grasp Evie’s as he gave it a squeeze, “I’m even worse.”

—

A/N: So...this is officially an AU! I’m calling it the Love Like Dragons AU. Basically Auradon is just a normal city (no prince and princesses, no pirates, ect.). Ben is the heir to his wealthy parents business rather then being a King. And the only ‘magical’ thing in Auradon is the dragons part of it. If you have any questions or suggestions for the AU, ping me :3

[my-arlington-academia]

Cliffany (Claire×Tiffany) part 1

Hello there!!! It’s been a while. Yes, you’re not dreaming, this is a crackship fanfiction between Claire and Tiffany from sweet elite. I wrote this a couple of weeks ago and posted it on the Dulcet discord server. I’ve decided to post them on tumblr if anyone is interested (or not, that’s fine too.)

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

"Cut the bullshit, Claire. I told you to stop sticking to me like glue!"

Tiffany was tired of it. No matter how many times she showed Claire how terrible she can be and how her words can cut deep, Claire kept coming back to her, looking for an explanation that doesn’t exist. Saying nonsensical one-liners like "are you really okay?" Or "You can talk to me if you need someone to listen." Tiffany found it pretty funny at first. Like, she could do any atrocity and this blond haired dumbass would come back to her anyway, thinking that she had some issues that needed fixing or something. After a while though, this shtick got annoying real quick. It was like Claire was completely unaware of who she was talking to and was blindly following the childish belief that everyone is kind and understanding on the inside.

"I’m just worried about you Tiffany, you keep pushing people away from you. That’s not good for your mental health. If you have troubles you can share them with someone..."

Tiffany sighed in exasperation. Was this girl senseless? Is that it?

"Listen here. I know you like to believe that everyone is good deep down but that’s not always the case. Not to mention, we’re not exactly close, you and I. If I wanted to "share" anything, it wouldn’t be with you."

"But..."

Claire’s eyes wavered for a second and she looked around, checking to see if there’s anyone nearby.

"...Honestly, the reason why I’m offering is because I don’t feel like you have anyone truly close to you. At least not in Arlington."

"Excuse me?"

One of the things that pissed Tiffany the most about Claire was that she could say the most insulting things with the best intentions, without any ounce of malice.

"Ha. And you’re the one to say this? You’re pretty much a wannabe psychiatrist who goes around being a punching bag for your classmates. People rely on you when they need you, but really? They don’t give a shit about you, honey."

Somehow, Claire’s gaze stayed on Tiffany, unchanging. This made her want to be meaner, more vicious, strike the parts she’s sensitive about. Claire was known to be patient like a saint and understanding like a mother. How nice would it be to finally put this dumb bitch in her place? Tiffany wanted to get a reaction from her, not only to make her leave but also because she was kind of interested to see what face she would make when she got upset.

"Oh, my apologies. What I told you just now, you were already aware of it, weren’t you? That you’re only needed as long as you’re useful. You might think that people like you Claire, but don’t get the wrong idea. You’re only useful, not lovable. Tell me about it sometime, how is it to be a walking doormat?"

Tiffany could feel it. Despite the fact that Claire’s expression still hasn't changed, there was a certain glow forming in her eyes. If she went on for long enough, she may be able to get the reaction she wanted.

"...Are you done, Tiffany? Can we talk like two civilized people now?"

"Hm. What was that? Do I hear some bitterness there, Miss I-Have-A-Savior-Complex? You probably got a lot of praise, huh? For your stupid speech at the department competition with your whole "people gather in front of misfortune" bullshit. Or- Ah! How could I forget, you also volunteer at the city’s hospital during weekends, right? You get all the praise and credit needed to get into Gold Tier even though all you really want is acknowledgement for your sorry existence."

Claire grabbed her skirt’s hem and kept tugging at it, looking down. In reality, Tiffany knew that there was no ill-will whatsoever behind Claire’s benevolent actions towards the people she took care of at the hospital. That was, however, the reason why she was so pissed right now. Instead of protesting against those baseless insults, Claire kept her silence, swallowing up her pride, waiting for this storm of verbal abuse to be over. At this point, Tiffany’s small conscience was telling her to stop. Yet, she couldn’t. Not now, not when she was getting closer and closer to results. And so, she kept pushing, wondering when Claire will finally talk back.

"Is that really what you think of me, Tiffany?"

"What’s wrong? Are you unable of taking any criticism, Claire? Or maybe you’re not used to being called out for your BS. You want it, don’t you? You want everyone to love you and have them keep you by their side while you’re playing the role of a perfect little girl who helps the weak but who’s just no fun to be with. The truth is that you just never learned to say no when people asked favors of you and it stayed as a habit. But instead of fixing that habit, you just went along with it, enjoying the attention."

Claire’s lips were starting to twist downward. There it was. The anger of being so blatantly insulted, the frustration of having to play nice even in front of someone who’s rude to you, the need to get all of those negative feelings out on someone and hurt them back either mentally or physically. Come hit me, yell at me and insult me. I finally get to see what you’re always hiding. No matter how ugly it is, I’ll accept it and laugh at it once you’re done pouring it out. When it comes to belittling others and making them feel worthless, I’m just the best at it.

"Honey, what’s going on? Want to turn back after coming so far? Well, I wouldn’t blame you. This is about the time when anyone would leave. Ah, by the way. Did you know that there was a certain rumor going around about the Durand family? Something like... a family member having a real nasty disease or something? So tell me who it is. Your mom, your dad? Surely not! He’s still working diligently everyday to take care of his little research facility in Florida. It would be terrible if he was actually pushing himself too hard to keep the business going, right?"

Tiffany finally went silent, grinning to herself, waiting impatiently for the crack to open and let the ocean out. Show it, Claire. Show that you can fight back so I can ridicule you even more for overselling your annoying "sweet girl" image.

However, none of that ever came.

"...Why... did you have to..."

Claire finally raised her head, showing a face full of tears. Despite that, she was trying to keep a smile on her face. "I’ve never seen anyone cry like that." Tiffany uselessly thought at first, until a wave of guilt she wasn’t even aware of went through her small conscience. There was something so upsetting about someone getting insulted to no-end and choosing to cry instead of letting their anger out. If only she exploded and hit her or yelled at her, it would’ve been better. But now, Tiffany felt like she just did something illegal. Attacked someone who didn’t have the means to defend themselves, who *didn’t* want to. Like she just robbed a homeless person who had barely any change left. It may have been the first time in her life that Tiffany truly felt pathetic for what she did. Shame, guilt, confusion. It was all welling up inside of her.

"Wh-why... *sniffle* Did you have to go so far... *sob* That was uncalled for..."

And yet you’re still not leaving? What’s wrong with this girl?! Before she even knew what was happening, Tiffany’s arms were reluctantly holding Claire into a tight embrace.

"A-are you a complete lunatic?? Why would you let me say all of this shit and cry afterwards?! That’s not how it works, you should’ve insulted me back and told me to fuck off!"

"I-I can’t... *sniff*"

"Why not?! Why can I and you can’t? You’re such a fucking moron, what the hell is wrong with you... When someone hits you, you hit them back! That’s basic knowledge every little kid has ever since kindergarten."

Claire’s hands slowly went up to return Tiffany’s hug. Through that small gesture, Tiffany felt every bit of emotion Claire was trying to communicate to her.

"Because... *sniffle* If I did you’d get sad and this conversation would end with both of us feeling sad... *sniffle* I know that you always act like you don’t care but, the truth is that you always get upset about what other people have to say about you, right? ...Especially with all of your social media accounts and the exposure you get. It must already be so hard to get so much unwanted criticism everyday even though you never asked for it..."

For some reason, before she even knew it, Tiffany’s heart rate picked up ever so slightly. To the point where neither she nor Claire even noticed it. After a relatively short amount of time, Tiffany let go of Claire, finally noticing how wet her blazer had gotten.

"Ugh. Seriously? Couldn’t you have at least- Oh God... You look like complete shit, go wash your face."

To that rude remark, Claire smiled gently, knowing that it didn’t have any malice behind it. Tiffany caught herself thinking that Claire really was an angel. She quickly erased it though. She didn’t want them to get involved in each other's business again, seeing how it can end. She didn’t want to make her cry again, no matter how weird that sounded coming from someone who never misses the chance to be a jerk. While parting ways, Claire’s crying face went through Tiffany’s mind again, filling her up with the desperate need to punch herself.

[sweeethinny]

Advices

someone had asked me to write about James asking Harry for loving advice during his Yule Ball, and inspired by @startanewdream fics, I wrote this :)

tell me what you think :)

AO3

‘‘Dad! ’’ James sighed as if he had been guarding the air for hours, looking relieved to see his father in the mirror. ‘’I’ve been calling you for hours!’’

‘’James, not a minute ago.’’ Harry laughed, albeit a little worried. James barely wrote letters that were more than 10 centimeters, something terrible must have happened for him to use the mirror. ''Did something happen?''

‘’Something horrible!’’ His son sighed, his brown eyes looking alarmed. ‘’Can you meet me at Hogsmeade? I don’t want to talk about it in the mirror.’’

‘’James, is it really terrible? Something about Lily? With Albus? Did anyone threaten you?!’’ Harry was already on his feet, ready to Apparate near Hogwarts and protect his children like a dragon mother.

‘’We’re all fine… well, I heard Albus was caught out of bed, but nothing much.’’ The son shrugged. ‘’So, are you coming? I know it's not exactly the date yet, but I need to see you. Alone.''

''Oh Jamie… what did you get into?'' Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes and trying to imagine what could be that time.. The last one was when he and his friends were caught in the Forbidden Forest taking care of a phoenix, then there was that one when he fought with a Ravenclaw after hearing that Greg was speaking ill of Albus… James was a good boy, and very intelligent for his own safety, but sometimes, Harry felt that he had inherited much of the Weasley blood.

‘’Dad, I just need your help.’’ His son asked, looking calmer now, his voice lower, and his shoulders relaxed, and if Harry didn’t know him, he would say he looked almost miserable.

‘’Alright… I’ll go.’’

[...]

The next day, Harry had entered McGonagall's office and asked him and James to leave the school quickly for lunch, for a private conversation. Needless to say, the principal looked at the ex-student as if he was still 15 years old and was hiding that, in fact, he was going to fight in the Ministry.

‘’Thanks for coming,’’ The boy said, following Harry through Hogsmeade, not unlike the James they had left on the platform a few months ago. ‘’I thought you couldn’t get me out of there… But you’re Harry Potter, of course you can.’’

‘’James, don’t try to win my heart.’’ He warned him, even though he wanted to laugh. ‘’We can’t always do this, so I really hope this is important.’’

‘’It’s important!’’ The two entered the Three Broomsticks, walking over to the back table that Harry had reserved for them. Some teachers and visitors stared at them, as always, but as soon as they sat down, Harry surrounded them with a muffling charm, thinking that maybe James didn't want his problem to come out in tomorrow's Daily Prophet.

‘’What happened then?’’ The son twisted a little ashamed, which was unusual for that extroverted boy who spoke at the elbows and was so articulate that Harry sometimes wondered if it was really his son. 

‘’How did you invite mom to the Yule Ball?’’ Oh… Harry realized then, what was the urgency. He sighed, thinking that while he wanted to laugh, he wanted to hug his son, a little desperate that James was old enough to ask girls out, and that he was still coming to ask his father for help.

‘’Hm… I didn’t invite her, actually.’’ Harry grimaced, remembering his 14 year old self who was much more insecure, morose and introverted. But James also reminded him very much of himself, even though a year older, his son had been in a bad mood for the past few months - fortunately, not because he was being tortured and being discredited after seeing a colleague die. James was just a teenager.

''Not?! She who invited you?’’

‘’Actually… we didn’t go together.’’ His son’s face seemed to fall with the news, and Harry took advantage of the shock to wave to the waitress, ordering two beers. ‘’I went with another girl, and she went with Neville.’’

‘’What’s your problem? Why didn’t you invite mommy? Or, okay, I get it, you were afraid to invite her and she would say no.'' James looked hopeful, which Harry thought was a little strange, since his kids knew their parents hadn't fallen in love since the first time they if they saw each other, or anything like that they saw in Muggle films.

‘’Well… I didn’t like her. Not like that, at least. I liked another girl, and your mom still couldn't get close to me without blushing or stuttering, so…’’ Harry shrugged. ‘’Thank you.’’ He smiled at the waitress, who broke into their protection circle and placed the beers in front of each other.

‘’So, did you invite her?’’ James asked as soon as the woman left. ‘’You liked her.’’

‘’I invited, but she already had another partner.’’ Harry shrugged, laughing at the memory of him being a fool and asking Cho out.

‘’Oh…’’ Then James cringed, as he did a few times when he was upset, looking at the glass in front of him and seeming to think about several things at once. ‘’So… did you call another girl?’’

‘’Hm, yes… Why?’’

''How did you do it? I mean .. call another girl, even if you liked the other one?’’

‘’We were like friends.’’ Harry shrugged, a little awkward to deal with the situation, realizing that his son’s problem was not just the shame of inviting someone to the ball. ‘’Well, at least I saw her only as a friend… Why? Anyone in particular?’’

‘’There’s this girl…’’ James still didn’t look at his father, his cheeks slightly flushed. ‘’I… I like her, and we are… we get to know each other,’’ Harry thought it looked like much more than just two acquaintances, but he wouldn’t disturb his son. ''But when I went to invite her, she had already agreed to go with another guy... I mean, I took too long and I think she thought I was inviting her because I had no choice.'' James ran his hand over his face, looking almost in pain. Harry's heart sank into his chest. ‘’I was late because I wanted to be nice when I called her, I even bought chocolates.’’ The boy laid his face on the table, looking totally miserable now.

‘’James…’’

‘’I was an idiot, that's what.’’ He said, his voice muffled against the wood. ‘’I should have known that a girl like her didn’t have all the time in the world to wait for my good will.’’

‘’Why don’t you tell her that?’’ Harry tried, trying hard not to actually get up and hug his son.

‘’And humiliate me even more? No thanks.’’ James raised his head from the table, but kept looking down, his hands running nervously through his hair.

‘’You can call a friend.’’ Harry thought of Mira, James’s friend that he had great affection for. But maybe it was because the girl was just too kind and smart, and she always seemed to be ready to keep James from being expelled - besides she was the one who took the phoenix to Hogwarts and spent almost a year trying to tame the bird.

‘’Yeah… maybe I’ll call Rosalia.’’ James looked at him, and Harry almost let on his disappointment.

‘’Just be kind and don’t charge yourself too much... Ask to speak to her alone, in case she is surrounded by friends.. ’’

‘’..They always are.’’

‘’..And invite her. But don’t let her think that she’s your last option, no one likes that.’’

‘’Ok.’’ His son didn’t look very happy, but he nodded. ''Thanks.''

‘’James… I’m sure you’ll find another time to ask this girl out, and then you can try to have something, or just decide to be colleagues. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll know how to handle the situation.’’

| DURING THE YULE BALL… |

As the songs went on, his excitement seemed to increase to the point where his cheeks and throat hurt from laughing and singing, so when Mira pulled him to get a buttered beer, he let himself go, accompanying her through the sea of ​​people like a fool in love that he was.

''They're good.'' James talked about the famous band that played, leaning on the wall next to the table and crossing his legs, he didn't even know where he left his cape anymore and he didn't mind being wearing only his black vest and the shirt. He swallowed a good amount of beer before noticing that Mira was staring at him. ''What's it?''

‘’Nothing, just thinking you’re a great party buddy’’ She shrugged and also took the drink, oblivious to the fact that his chest ached with anticipation ‘’It’s hot here, don’t you think? I'm sweating.’’ Her cheeks were flushed and red was running dangerously down her long neck, where James did not want to venture out, knowing his weaknesses.

‘’Do you want to go outside?’’ He nodded towards the gardens.

‘’Nah, I still want to hear them play Wicked Game.’’ He nodded, wanting to be where she was. ‘’I was really abandoned at my first dance,’’ Mira seemed to speak more to herself than to James, so he just remained silent, looking at her curiously. ''Is weird.''

‘‘Don’t be dramatic, I’m here.’’ The blonde laughed nasally and looked at him, eyebrow raised as she approached and leaned next to his, very close.

‘’You’re not my date.’’ He shrugged and drank his beer, wanting to tell her that he wanted her to go.

‘‘Pretend I am. ’’ Her black eyes looked at him as if he said there was a dead body in his room.

‘’You already have one.’’ Mira reminded him, and his laugh came out without any humor, and he wouldn’t doubt that his face was twisted in a frown.

‘’Who kissed me thinking of another.’’ At the same time he regretted having verbalized, denying and messing up his hair ‘‘Forget it. Do you want to go dancing?’’

‘’Did she do that?’’ Of all he wanted, Mira’s pitying look wasn’t one of them.

‘’Don’t look at me like that Hazel, I’m not a fucking child who fell down the stairs.’’ Admitting that he was upset wasn’t in his plans, it never was, so she couldn’t expect the opposite from him now. Besides, he had also thought of Mira when he kissed Rosalia, so he was not a complete saint.

''It's not me you're mad at, besides, I can't pretend I'm not furious.'' James almost lost his eyes to face his friend, who left her mug on the table and crossed her arms over her chest, looking over their heads, or at least those she could manage.

''Furious?''

‘’Yeah, how could she do that? I understand she is still getting over the breakup with Nicholas, now, do this to you? No, no, this is playing dirty. Why the hell weren't you honest and.. ’’

‘’..Mira, you don’t need to pick up my fights for you,’’ James took her arm, getting too close for his own sanity ‘’I'm fine, okay? It was nothing.''

‘’This is so stupid James, I don’t believe it.’’ Merlim would help him not to shut that girl up with a kiss. Now he wanted to kiss.

Before he did anything stupid, he decided to do something worse, when he noticed that a bewitched mistletoe grew on top of them, as Michael had said that happened whenever a couple was very close at the ball. And before his conscience shut him up, he let his impulsive part take over;

‘’Oh ... you know the tradition, right?’’ It didn’t give him even a second to want to undo the stupid phrase, wanting to punch himself.

Mira's eyes widened and her cheeks were almost the color of her lipstick, looking shocked by what her friend had said, hardening in his hand and momentarily looking like a statue.

‘’Hm… ’’

‘’..It’s a joke.’’ And as if the world was trying to fix its shit, Ghost Tears announced that they would sing the song they had been waiting for all night; Wicked Game. ‘’Hey, let’s dance.’’

And without looking too much into the blonde's face, or caring about the fact that his heart was beating so fast that he wouldn't be shocked if he fell hard on the floor, he carried her into the middle of the room again and adjusted himself to dance, placing the hand on her waist as they had rehearsed. His heart trembling with their proximity, and how beautiful Mira was, even closer. He would dream for months about that blue dress and that cleavage.

‘’Shall we dance?’’ Mira asked, seeming to bite a laugh. And if James hadn't been willing to look at the band, a little embarrassed, he would see how hopeful she looked.

‘’Yes ... I mean ... if you want ..’’ He finally looked at her, staring into the big dark eyes contrasting with the pale skin.

''Yea, sure.'' Mira smiled from ear to ear, no longer seeming to care that Scott abandoned her in the middle of the ball. In fact, she looked even happier now, which made James, still happier than hours ago.

[ao3gingerswag]

on the whole idea of the boys when they're older interacting with kids, what if one day a kid comes in with his family who's like rly shy and timid, like not bc of abuse he's just rly shy and with his family who are perhaps quite boisterous and he's not and he gets quite anxious and there's a whole thing where the boys are able to bring him out of his shell ;~; like when he and his family are sitting down for a meal dean comes out with their food and makes him relax bc hes so good with kids. he comes down during the night bc he heard a noise and got scared and cas is down there cleaning up for the night and talks to him about nature to calm him down and the boy is like :)) and then the next morning he's outside and there's other kids who are playing with sam and he's off to the side but sam notices and is able to bring him into the play and he ends up making friends with the other kids, and then by the time the family have to leave the inn he's like smiling and happy and he turns to his parents and is like 'can we come back here soon :D' and it's this rly nice moment, maybe from his perspective so we get to see others reactions to the boys :))

ALSO AS I WAS WRITING THIS I HAD AN EPIPHANY WHAT IF THE BOY IS JACK. DOESN'T NEED TO BE BUT IT WORKS KINDA WELL!!

awwww this is so cute!!! Maybe this could be combined with the prompt about cas helping the family with an autistic child and helping the parents understand their kid better....like maybe the kid is autistic and so he has a hard time talking sometimes and is withdrawn bc of difficulty interacting with others. and dean is so good with kids, even if he can't spot right away that the kid is autistic like cas would be able to, he can tell when he comes out with the food that the kid is in distress. like he's like and here's yours sir :) to the kid (dean is very polite but he is calling the kid sir as a bit of a joke to make the kid smile) and the kid like doesnt look up and the parents are like oh sorry he's just shy. and dean is like oh. hmmm. cause the kid has like his fingers clenched in his tunic. when he comes back out he like crouches next to the kid to make him feel more comfortable and is like hey :) i'm dean :) and the kid doesnt look up or say anything and the parents r like sorry he gets like this idk why. jack look at the nice boy and introduce yourself. (i didnt watch the later seasons but from what i see on tumblr.edu the consensus is that jack is autistic so!) and dean is like no thats ok he doesnt have to look at me/talk to me. and then to jack he's like. u know i have a friend who doesn't always look at people or talk to them and we get along just fine. so i think me and jack are gonna get along great :) and then to jack he's like. you know. my friend and i dont always talk using our voices. sometimes we use our hands! (i guess this is post meeting eileen- i've said this on a different post but once dean cas and sam r introduced to the concept of sign language they adopt it immediately bc cas feels so much more comfortable communicating like that when he's having trouble w/ words) and jack is like ??! so turns towards dean w/o making eye contact, clearly intrigued. and dean is like :) wanna see? :) and jack nods. and dean shows him a few basic signs and jack mimics him. and one of the words is upset. and then once jack learns it, dean signs "you upset?" to him. ;~; and jack nods. and dean is like. wanna tell me what's up? maybe i can help! and then jack does the shy kid thing of indicating with body language that they dont wanna say what's wrong out loud, so dean leans in and jack whispers into his ear "loud." and dean is like oh! i see! we can fix that :) can i tell your parents what you just told me? and jack nods. so dean says to the parents (who r looking on in bemusement) its a bit loud in here for jack. mind if i take him outside for a minute? and the parents are like oh! sweetheart why didnt you tell us? (they arent bad parents they just dont get jack and its the middle ages so its not like there is info out there) and jack shrugs and the parents sort of helplessly shrug at each other, bc jack not verbalizing issues is a common problem for them. and they r like um its ok u dont have to take him outside we will take him. but do u mind bringing our food outside and stuff. like can we eat there. and dean is like of course no problem! and theyre like r u sure? im sorry that u have to go out of ur way for us, im sorry about our son, he can be. kinda fussy sometimes. and dean is like literally dont worry about it!

so then jack's parents take him outside and they all eat on the porch, and dean keeps popping back over to check on them. and jack is clearly much happier and starts to become much more verbal now that he's not overstimulated. still shy and quiet but much more smiley and every time dean brings them something he's very quietly like "thank you."

omg! maybe dean notices that he's not eating his food and so he's like do we want something else? and the parents r like omg no omg im sorry he's just so particular about what he likes omg the food is great jack pls eat ur food dont be rude. and dean is like he's not being rude at all he's a very polite young man :) id be happy to bring something else out. and the parents r like. well. if you're sure...he likes things that r like. boring. like really really boring. like plain porridge with nothing in it and stuff like that. and dean is like mashed potatoes? and the parents r like yes! and jack perks up. and so he brings that out for jack. and he brings it out and the parents r like omg omg thank u SO much for going so out of ur way for our weird kid even tho he still wont look at u at all. they dont say that part they're not assholes to jack, its implied tho and jack kinda curls into himself bc hes embarrassed about causing problems. and dean ofc notices and is like. u know. my friend who talks with his hands can be very particular too. he doesnt like the noise in the dining room either, and he also only likes certain foods. and jack perks up again :)

ahhh he keeps coming out to check on them and he's like hey how u doing? and!! oh no maybe dean also taught him the sign for happy and he signs "happy" at dean ;~:

to be clear- dean doesn't make the connection that jack LIKE like cas, as in he's autistic, at least not yet. like i think he WOULD if he had more time with him, but cas is the only autistic person he's ever met, and he just met jack. dean def just thinks he's very shy, but he's great with kids and can tell right away that jack is upset, and he shows him the signs not cause he realizes that jack is actually non-verbal in that moment but because he really doesnt care if the kid doesn't want to talk to him, he just wants to help. and he shows him the signs and stuff bc he wants the kid to tell him whats wrong, but kids wont tell strangers that if u just ask upfront, you have to gain their trust a little first ;~; and dean understands all of this instinctually bc he's great with kids so he manages to figure out whats wrong and solve the problem even without realizing that jack is autistic. ;~;

the person who figures out that jack is autistic is definitely cas!! jack comes down in the middle of the night maybe not cause he hears a noise, maybe he just cant sleep bc he hates his routine being disrupted and being in a new place ;~; and the sheets feel all wrong and everything smells wrong and everything is different and he hates it ;~; so he comes downstairs maybe be he's crying and he doesnt want to wake his parents up. and cas is downstairs cleaning up still, it's totally quiet tho now so there is no overstimulation. and cas is like oh! a tiny person!! uuhhh.... he def panics a little bc he's not good w people and he's not sure what to do with a random crying child. maybe he briefly considers waking dean up bc dean is good with kids and also maybe he saw dean talking to jack earlier. but then hes like no dean is tired i dont want to bother him ill try to deal with it. and hes like um. hello. um. my name is castiel i am the owner of this inn. um i guess u dont care about that. um. r u ok? and then the kid signs "upset" ;~; and cas is like oh! bc thats their signs! so he signs "what's wrong, why are you upset?" back even tho like it's just their home signs so how would this kid know them. but he signed "upset" so cas responds kinda on instinct. and the kid does not understand anything other than upset bc dean only showed him like 5 signs and he kinda already forgot the other ones. but it doesnt matter! bc those r hand words like dean was talking about and showing him! which must mean this is his friend who doesnt like looking at people or talking!! and jack is verbally like. r u dean's friend who doesnt like looking at people or talking. and cas is like um? yeah i guess? thats me. and jack is like ! i am very particular too! and bc he trusts dean and now by extension cas, and believes dean about cas being "particular" like him, he doesnt feel embarrassed about admitting what's wrong. and he spills his guts hes like everything is WRONG i dont like how anything feels or smells or tastes and everything is different from how it is at home and i HATE it and mom and dad says thats rude but i dont want to be rude but i cant sleep bc everything is all wrong!!! ;~; and he says all this not looking at cas and waving his hands around his head. and cas is like......................................................................oh. hm. i see. this is Me.

so he's just very empathetic and is like im really sorry i totally understand, you're not being rude, i also feel that way whenever we travel and i also am very selective about what i can touch and eat and stuff and am very sensitive to the physical environment. i know i cant fix it all but is there anything i can do to help you feel better? do u want to try some different blankets? and he takes jack to the linen closet and is extremely patient as he brings down each blanket and lets jack touch each one and decide which is the best. and it DOESNT solve everything but just having someone take him seriously and listen to him makes jack feel so much better and hes eventually able to go back to sleep ;~;

in the morning theyre outside, sam who's like 16 or whatever is chasing the kids around playing tickle monster. and jack's parents try to get him to go play with sam and the other kids but he doesnt want to he's too shy and anxious. and cas keeps staring at jack like :( bc he KNOWS but he doesnt know what to do about it. he brings it up with dean and dean is like OH. i see THATS what was going on with him he's like you! and cas is like yeah :( idk what to do about it...

sam sees jack hanging around with his parents on the side and he's like hey! do u want to come play? and jack is like................ and his parents r like sorry hes really shy. and sam is like thats ok! i have an idea, why dont we change the game and we can play hide and seek! (bc that doesnt require jack to jump in to interacting with a big crowd of kids) he's like :) i bet u can hide real well! :) and jack is like! :D and he nods bc hes like whoa i CAN hide really well! and they play hide and ofc sam is the seeker but when he finds the kids he always kinda turns it into man hunt cause he's like ah HA i got u!!! and he chases them around. and eventually he finds jack and hes like mwahahahaha now im gonna EAT you!!! and jack like screeches and giggles and bolts away and sam chases him and the other kids, and basically he like tricks jack into playing the exact same game they were playing before by like easing him into it by not making the start of the game require walking up to a crowd of ppl. but then once they r in the game he's ok just running around with the other kids :)

meanwhile dean and cas watch this and dean is like. do u want to talk to the parents. and cas is like. :/ i dont know how to do that. like how would we even start that conversation. and dean is like. i can help u :) so he does! he's like hey u remember i was talking about my friend to ur son the other day? this is he! u met him when u were checking in! ive noticed that he's like really really similar to ur son and has some of the same issues, and we were wondering if u wanted to talk about how cas deals with some of those things? and basically dean eases them into the conversation and makes it unintimidating for both parties. and cas teaches the parents all about the concept of sign language, and how going non-verbal is more than just being shy, and like they start describing situations in which jack was like Weird theyre like one time he started screaming and crying and rocking in public we didnt know what to do! and cas is like well where were u? what was going on? and like helps them identify the kinds of sensory things that probably trigger jack and stuff. and just like. its a good convo.

omg and cas is literate by this point and maybe the parents r too and hes like. if u ever wanna write to me and ask me about more shit and whatever pls dont hesitate. and then they DO and basically they help this family understand and raise their autistic son and its great!!! :D

anyway this is a VERY long response i definitely just outlined a mini-fic here.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #444

“the monster you made is wearing the crown  /  i’ll be the king, and you’ll be the clown”

Do you take off from school, or work for your birthday? Ha, I used to try to talk Mom into letting me stay home from school... It only sometimes worked. Have you ever created ‘open when’ letters for someone? No. That'd be cute for an s/o, though. What is the best thing about being in the relationship you’re in right now or about being single? Not having to fear my partner leaving because of the struggles I'm going through. Not having to worry about not being enough for another person, because I'm not even enough for myself. Do you have a favourite painting? Not by a historical artist, no, but there is a piece by a deviantART artist called "Denialism" (by NukeRooster/Tatchit, if you're interested) that I adore so much I've actually gotten her permission to get it tattooed one day when I can afford a brilliant artist to do it. What are some of the best life hacks you know? /shrug What makes you smile without fail? MARK LAUGHING laj;sdkafjwlk;erj Do you know what you’ll be getting your loved ones for the holidays this winter? No clue. That's still a whiles off. What is your biggest short-term goal (within the next month)? Just lose a decent amount of weight for a month's time. What will your next tattoo be of? It depends on what cash I have available, really. As much as it sucks, I think my next tat is a whiles off because I just have more pressing things to pay for. Has anyone very close to you ever died? Besides pets, the closest human to me that's ever died was Jason's mom. If you were throwing your significant other/best friend a themed party, what would the theme be? Uh, Frieza-related, obviously. Do you feel prepared for the apocalypse? I don't believe in the apocalypse in the biblical sense of it being determined by an ultimate power, so this isn't something I really think about. Whenever humanity ends, it ends. I don't have a say, so I may as well not obsess over it. Do you think you will have children naturally, adopt, or forgo having children altogether? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I know that either I'd have to give birth to them or my hypothetical wife would for me to feel *properly* connected to them as a mother should. Oh, or if my male partner had a kid from a previous relationship, but I'd have to be REALLY in love with him to feel like that child is also my own. Do you take pictures of yourself on a daily basis? Oh god no. Do you believe in angels? No, but rather just spirits. Is there anything in your past that you used to regret, but now you don’t? Hm, maybe? Does your knee hurt? My knees always hurt. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Yes. Do you like raisins? omg nooooo What is your favorite bug? Butterflies! :') Do you like Scrabble? Sure, it's fun for a board game. Do you have a printer? Yes. What is your favorite food? Cheeseburgers or pizza, probably. I know, so American. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? Yes. Do you like ants? They are very fascinating when you really think about it, but I still find them incredibly annoying. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. Have you ever drank goat milk? No, I don't believe so. What’s your favorite video game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Do you like cats? I love kitties!!! :') Are goldfish your favorite fish? No. I think my favorite is probably the lionfish. Do you like vanilla pudding? No. I only like chocolate pudding. What is your opinion on gay marriage? I 100% support it and would fight to the death for it. What is your opinion on gay adoption? Don't even fucking look at me if you see a problem with a parentless child finding a home with two people in love. Who was the last person you had a crush on? Sara. What’s the most expensive piece of clothing you own? I have zero clue. Why do you drive the car you have right now? I don't have my own car. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Omg yes and it sucks. Are you friends with your neighbors? No. What is your current desktop picture? One of my favorite pictures of my late pup, Teddy. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen out the window of an airplane? Mountains! Does your neighbor have any pets? *shrug* Have you ever swam in a mountain lake? No, but that sounds VIBIN'. Has a cat/dog ever thrown up on your bed? alksdjflk;a;jdfalwe yes Have you ever had a concussion? One or two. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Not currently, I think? I want a fat-tailed gecko, though. :( Would you ever go bear hunting? I wouldn't dare hunt ANY animal. Have you ever seen two movies at the theater in a row? I have not. How many teenagers do you know who have babies? I know no teen personally that has a child, but there were some pregnant students in high school. If you could keep your parents or trade them for other parents, which would you pick? I would NEVER change my parents. Is there a piggy bank in the room you’re in? It's not a "piggy" bank, per se, but my sister got me a skull one that she says is for my tattoo funds. :') How many sets of twins do you know? Two, off the very top of my head. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? Yes. No one fucks with her for as long as I live. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not especially. Who is your favorite Disney Channel person? Uhhh, maybe Raven Symone? How many pets do you have? Just two. Do you think you will be successful in life? No. :/ What do you have pierced? My earlobes, twice, and my bottom lip. I have been dyinnnnggg for some new ones lately. :/ Does techno annoy you as much as it annoys me? No, I actually enjoy quite a bit of techno. What’s your comfort food? Ice cream. Do you like paranormal stuff? YES. Do you have a favorite stuffed toy? Rebel, my adorable meerkat plush from Jason, and Brownie, my moose from Cabela's. What’s the most exciting project you were given? In a way, my senior project since you got to choose your own topic, but I dreaded the presentation. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not at ALL. What are your favorite colour for a cat? Orange! If you had to live your life carrying a shield, what would its design be? This is gonna sound super, super cheesy, but probably a heart to symbolize how love should and could block the effects of hate and general evil and that we should pursue that instead of violence. Out of all the cancers, which one do you think needs to find a cure first? Oh god, they all do. If I had to pick one though, it'd be one of the inevitably fatal kinds, like pancreatic. What are your general afterthoughts when you’ve finished a book? I feel accomplished for actually reading to a story's completion. How many pairs of glasses (not sunglasses) have you owned? Two, I think? What color is your flash-drive? Hot pink. Have you ever built a sand castle? Yeah. How many houses have you lived in? Six. One I have no memory of. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth? Yes. What video game should everybody play at least once? Amnesia: A Machine for PIgs for the symbolism. It blows my mind how most horror fans hate it; it's like they totally miss the point. 100 years from now, what modern things will people look back on and say, “WTF?” Hopefully things like homophobia, racism, misogyny, concepts like those. What is impossible to understand until it happens to you? Mental illness, to name only one thing. What fictional food item from a television show, cartoon, movie, or video game have you always wanted to try? Hm. There's a lot that has looked super good, really. What’s something that gets much more hate than it deserves? Nickelback, lmao. What phrases or sayings drive you crazy? "Everything happens for a reason," "it could be worse/some people have it worse," "it's all part of God's plan," "just think positive"... a lot of stuff. Do you have a deviantART? I do, even though Eclipse made it fucking suck. I only really stay because I cling to the dying hope of being at least somewhat successful on there, and I enjoy keeping tabs on the artwork of the hundreds of people I watch there. Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? Mufasa, even if he doesn't last long in the movie. :''''''( Have you ever been to Germany? No, but I'd love to! What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. Have you ever been ice skating? No. The blades on the skates scare me. Have you ever taken a karate class? No. Do you have any nieces or nephews? I have a lot, if you include my half-siblings' kids. Do you own an Xbox? Nah, I've always been a PlayStation gal. Would you date someone who’s well-known for cheating? Nope. Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? No. I'd consider their reasons, but ultimately, it's about me loving the person. Could you be in a relationship without sex? Yeah, sure. It's not ideal, but I mean if the other person is just very opposed, I'm certainly not forcing them. Emotional intimacy is more important to me, anyway. Have you ever been “friendzoned”? Yep. :') Briefly, anyway. Jason tried for my sake, but it was VERY short-lived by no one's fault but my own because all I know how to do is fuck shit up when it comes to him. Which “famous couple” is your favorite? LOOK Mark and Amy are FUCKIN GEMS Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship? Pretty fucking much. Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship? I'm submissive by nature. Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated? No, I think it's a cute holiday. Which do you feel is worse of the two to smoke: weed or tobacco? Well, weed has more carcinogens, but at least it has actual health benefits. Who did you last see that you haven’t seen in ages? *shrug* Are you photogenic at all? God no.

[cambionverse]

envesseled (3 of 3): funeral

happy end of our 10th cambiversary day (for real this time), and the end—for now—of new envesseled content. but you may see more sneak peeks of envesseled during the writing process to come, because you guys: this one's a doozy. expect both length and angst.

this snippet comes with a big, major, huge spoiler warning - you know the one. it's basically an open secret at this point. content warnings for death and grief (which should be unsurprising, given the title).

thank you all so much for reading along and for joining us on this monumental occasion. we saved the best for last, so let's make you sad! <3

---

The new snow covers all but the freshest set of footprints. Even though Claire can't actually see Jesse, following him out of Singer's Salvage is easy. The clouds cover most of the moonlight, but white snow is still white snow, putting the silhouettes of trees into sharp relief. It isn't long before she works out his destination—the palo santo tree.

Where Ben is buried.

Claire could stop, now that she knows. Should stop, and give Jesse his privacy. But she doesn't. Like being unable to tear her eyes from a car wreck—part of her wants to see.

The grace protecting the clearing hasn't stopped the little wildflowers from being buried in white. Ben's grave marker could very well be buried too, Claire thinks—but her eyes land on it immediately, a large pile of stones pushed atop a shallow hole in the ground. Jesse, a black shape against the snow, stands huddled before it, bent against the wind or perhaps the whatever ill feeling he gets from the palo santo tree being so close. He stands there for a long time, without moving or saying a word. Snowflakes gather in his hair.

Eventually, Claire goes to join him. It's better than standing by herself, and—he looks so still, there in the snow. Jesse's indestructible, but she just wants to make sure.

Jesse starts when he hears her footsteps, but the hard line of his shoulders relaxes once she's close enough to make out his face. "So much for sleeping, hm?" he asks.

Claire doesn't say anything. The wind whips through the trees.

"I don't know what to say at funerals," Jesse says finally. "I've never been to one. Not my parents', or any of the Simms family—obviously." He shrugs. "I don't know what to say."

Is this Ben's funeral? A sorry excuse for one. He deserves better—but it doesn't matter, Claire reminds herself. None of this matters, none of it is real, because she's going to bring him back.

Jesse reaches into his pocket and produces a large smooth stone. "I've never really visited a grave, either," he confesses. There are tears frozen on his face. "But this is what you're supposed to do, right?" Carefully, so it doesn't fall, he lays the stone on top of the grave. "I don't know, I've never really known anybody who was Jewish except Ben, and I know he didn't keep kosher or anything like that. But the night before we left Cicero, after everything with the djinn, I found him picking out a rock. He said he wanted to leave it on his mom's grave, because it'd been so long."

They'd hung around in Cicero for a few days after everything happened, but Claire remembers now that Ben had disappeared for about an hour the morning they left, claiming he had some catching up around town to do. It was close enough to the truth that it didn't even set off Claire's grace. She hadn't thought much of it at the time—just another thing about Ben she wasn't paying enough attention to.

Jesse turns his head a little. "Can I ask you something?"

Claire crosses her arms, though even the snow doesn't really make her feel cold. Jesse seems to take it for agreement.

"Earlier today," he starts, and something in his tone sets Claire's teeth on edge. "Castiel said something like—it wasn't the first time he healed you?"

That's right, he did say that—and in front of everyone, because of course they all need to know about every horrible detail of Claire's life, she can't go around sharing things with people on her own fucking terms. Not enough for her to crack herself open and let Castiel back inside, is it? All he knows about her—from their time together, and after that—it's his to keep, and he can divulge it at a whim to whomever he chooses. Maybe that's why he brought it up to begin with: as blackmail.

"I thought you hadn't seen him," Jesse continues, tentative. "Since he...since you were young. I thought that was why you left home?"

Claire says nothing.

Finally, Jesse blows out a sigh that fogs the air around them. "All right," he says. "None of my business, I guess. Sorry." And he must be, for Claire feels no pain behind the word.

Still—Claire hurt his feelings, she can tell. After all, it must have seemed like a nice, private moment to divulge a secret. But he's right: it's none of his fucking business. She never told anyone about that night, not even Ben, and she's sure as hell not about to start now just because Castiel spilled the beans. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. None of it matters except getting Ben back. So that this—the grave, the body beneath it, this mockery of a fucking funeral—none of it has to come to pass.

Jesse lifts his head to look above him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but seems to think better of it, clamping his jaw shut and shaking his head. He takes a deep breath and holds it—to, perhaps, the count of four—and then at last says, "It'll be all right."

Following his line of sight, Claire spies a dark shape among the branches, swaying in the wind. Ben's bracelet, tied firmly around the lowest, closest branch to the grave. Small wonder she didn't hear it, with the rest of the tree sitting here singing so loudly it covers the sound.

She had wondered where it went.

Jesse turns away from it. "I'm freezing," he says finally, and gives Claire an expectant look. "Coming?"

Claire hesitates.

Something in Jesse's posture changes—the angle of his shoulders, perhaps. It's hard to tell in the dark. "All right," he says again. "I'll, uh. Be inside. If you need me."

She suspects it's Jesse who needs her, at the moment—even with the traps broken, he can't possibly enjoy being back in that house alone—but after a long silence, he goes on ahead without her.

When at last he disappears between the trees, Claire looks back up at the bracelet.

How she used to hate that thing, when she and Ben first met—a constant whining at the edge of her subconscious, reminding her that Dean Winchester's boy was nearby, a son in name whether or not that righteous blood was flowing through his veins. But just as she eventually took a liking to Ben, so too did she learn to like the sound. Some nights, after the grace sickness got bad, it was the only thing that let her drop off to sleep. Now it's entombed here just like Ben is, singing its song to no one.

A funeral. What do you say at a funeral?

Claire has only ever been to one funeral: the one she and her mother held a year after her father's first disappearance, just before Castiel. It was for closure, her mother said—to let go, move on, and leave the rest in the hands of the Lord. Even at age eleven, Claire had understood that the funeral was mostly for her mother, and so she let her mother do the talking.

And not two weeks after they laid her father to rest, he turned back up on their doorstep, Castiel and the Winchesters not far behind. The whole time they were letting him go, he was still out there, chained to a comet, lost inside that screaming light and condemned to a fate worse than death.

Claire didn't go to any more funerals after that, not even her mother's. A funeral isn't just letting go, it's giving up. And Claire's not going to give up on Ben, not when he still needs her help. All the years he stayed by her side when she gave him every reason to go, all the attempts she made to push him away that were met with his steadfast loyalty and patience—to repay that with a funeral is an insult.

Claire turns away from the grave. She will not mourn Ben. She will not.

The song of the palo santo grows fainter with each step she takes away from the tree. In her mind's eye Claire sees Ben's easy grin when he explained it to her for the first time, and then the lonely image of it stuck up among the tree branches, condemned to rot away in the elements after all the hard work Ben put into perfecting it. She thinks of the rest of her life, however many weeks or months she may have of it, spent in silence.

Claire stops.

This is not a funeral. This is not Ben's grave. He isn't gone, because she's bringing him back.

All at once Claire whirls, kicking up snow, and marches back up to the tree. It's nearly too high for her to reach, but after two tries Claire's hand closes around the branch and snaps it off completely. She pulls the bracelet off and tosses the branch carelessly to the ground. Now that she's touching the bracelet, she can differentiate its hum from the rest of the tree, and the song flows right up through her palm and into her bloodstream, momentarily cooling down her anger.

Claire's going to have to start wearing a jacket after all, she thinks, even as she slides the bracelet onto her own wrist. She can't let anyone see her wearing this.

She touches her fingers to the wood, and doesn't cry.

It's just like Jesse said: it'll be all right.

It'll be all right.

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 56)

Author’s note: I wasn’t sure this was going to be done today, but I made it! Happy Monday, everyone. :)

Warnings: fear, hospital mention, illness and injury mention, food mention, arguing, sleep deprivation

Word count: 2882

Infinitesimal Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

The humans were gone for a very long time.

Patton and Virgil stayed outside of the box, even with how exposed Virgil felt knowing that the human strangers could return at any time. He wasn’t making Patton go back inside. Not under any circumstances.

This choice was at the expense of making Emile stay inside alone, but they could still talk to each other. Emile stopped answering after about an hour, but that didn’t concern Virgil too much—he must have just fallen back asleep. He was still healing, and even as scared as they all were, he needed his rest badly.

The hours stretched on as Virgil and Patton sat together, waiting. Night gradually turned to day, the sky visible through a gap in the curtains lightening first to a gray, then faint yellow, then a pale, pale blue. Neither of them had slept a wink since the bizarre, terrifying occurrence  of the night before.

Virgil wanted to go back in the box, just for a moment, to check on his brother, but he was afraid to leave Patton alone, in case he had another one of those episodes, or whatever had happened, again. Plus, Patton’s hands were clutching tightly onto Virgil’s; and he wasn’t about to ask his friend to let go, not when he needed him.

At least here, outside, he could keep an eye on this room of the apartment and watch for any changes. Because the humans had to come back eventually, and Virgil wanted to be prepared. With Emile bed bound and Patton in the state he was in, it would be up to Virgil to keep them safe.

He would do whatever it took if it meant keeping his family safe. He didn’t want to think about how limited his options were, as far as that went.

A couple of hours after sunrise, there was a knock at the door. Patton flinched, squeezing his eyes shut and whining softly.

“Shh,” Virgil murmured, leaning over to peer around the box but not letting go of his friend. “It’s okay. We’re fine.”

A moment passed, and then the knocking came again. But whoever it was must have given up when there was no answer, as after several tense minutes had passed, there were no more repetitions.

“They’re gone,” Virgil whispered, looking back at Patton. “They’re gone.”

Patton nodded, swallowing.

“Want to hear a story?” Virgil offered. “Something to take your mind off of things?”

Patton looked down at their joined hands. “Yes, please,” he whispered, “but—but no….” He trailed off.

“I know. And it’ll be happy, I promise.” He wasn’t about to hurt Patton more. And he would definitely be avoiding stories like the time he’d ended up in a vacuum bag on his first trip out of the walls. Virgil had a feeling that now was not the time for funny stories about being trapped in small spaces.

Patton glanced up towards Virgil’s face, and he took the go ahead.

“So, he’s going to kill me if he knows I told you this; but one time, when Emile and I were….” He hummed. “I guess we must have been about four and five, our parents brought home these caramel candies. You know, those soft ones that come in a wrapper?”

“Mhm?”

“And they told us that we could have some if we did all of our chores. They were pretty easy chores, obviously, since we were just little kids. Just untangling thread and stuff. I don’t really remember what all we were supposed to do. But me and Em, you know, we didn’t want to wait. We didn’t get a lot of candy, and we were kind of impatient.” It wasn’t practical, for littles to take the time to collect candy, when necessary supplies were far more important. So they usually didn’t.

Patton nodded.

“So we kind of rushed through a bit of the chores, and then Em had an idea. He waited until our dad left to get some more stuff, and then he had me ask for help from our mom. And while we were doing that, he went and he stole some of the candy, and he put it in his pockets.” Virgil smiled wryly. “Do you see where this is going?”

Patton tilted his head slightly, still looking down. “They… they ca-aught you?”

“Well… yeah, they definitely caught us.” Virgil glanced towards where Emile was, then leaned towards Patton again conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “So, Emile put the candy in his pockets, and he went back to doing his chores. And I think it was maybe ten minutes later, he came in the bedroom, and he goes to pull out the candy. Except… well, they were caramels. Soft caramels. And Emile was five, and he hadn’t thought to wrap them in anything. And they were in his pockets, right next to his skin….”

Patton made a soft noise of realization.

“So of course, they had melted. And when he pulled the caramel out, it was just this gooey mess.” Virgil smirked at the memory. “We still ate it, obviously, because we were kids; but it was all over his pockets. And his hands were so sticky, it was ridiculous. Mine too, the one I ate the candy with. We tried to get back to the chores, play it off, so our parents didn’t notice, but we were just getting this stuff everywhere. The string kept sticking to our hands, and it was all over our clothes where we tried to wipe it off, so stuff was sticking to them, too….”

Patton’s lips twitched.

“It was a disaster. We thought our parents would be so mad when they found out. But they just laughed, and laughed, and laughed. They thought it was hilarious. I can see why, thinking back. But anyway, we agreed that next time we’d get some candy before and after we did our chores, next time. And that maybe if there was a choice, they wouldn’t get caramels again.”

“I thought you didn’t remember that story,” called a voice.

Virgil glanced over at the cardboard box that hid his brother from view. Oops. Emile was awake. “I don’t!” he called back, a blatant lie. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is it too late to claim he’s just slandering my good name?”

“Maybe a bit,” Patton murmured.

“Pat says it is,” Virgil called.

“Well, in that case, there are plenty of stories that I could tell, as long as we’re sharing.”

“Hey, no, no fair.”

“Yes, fair. Hey Virge, you remember that time you tried to—”

“Aaaaaaaah, nope, nope. I do not. I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life, let alone anything you’d know about. I don’t even know you. Who are you?”

Emile laughed.

Patton seemed to know that the exchange was for show; but he did seem more relaxed, which was a win in Virgil’s book.

…

The knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“Why don’t they just come in?” Virgil growled, listening hard. “Why bother with the whole knocking business? To scare us? Is this fun for them or something?”

“It’s not that,” Emile answered, his voice only loud enough to be heard. The odds of a human hearing them from outside this room, let alone the hallway outside the apartment door, were very slim; but Virgil appreciated the extra caution. “Whoever it is doesn’t know Roman and Logan aren’t here. Not just any human can go in whatever apartment they want. They have to have a key, or be let in.”

“Hm.” That was true, Virgil supposed, but he couldn’t imagine a simple door could stop a human who really wanted to get in. Sure, a door was large and sturdy, but so were they.

A voice sounded, clearly the human’s, from outside. It was hard to make out from their place in the living room, but they seemed to be asking to be let in. Even though there was no one around to do that, Virgil tensed, as did Patton; and he would bet anything that Emile had done the same. He didn’t recognize the voice, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, with how on edge he was.

“Rooooman,” the voice called once more, the word clearly audible as they raised their voice. There was a thump, almost like the person had thrown their weight against the door. “Please? Let me in!” They said a few more words, then fell silent.

Virgil held his breath, but the person must have given up, for the knocking didn’t come again. Still, Virgil found it even harder to relax than before.

…

Finally, just past noon, the apartment door opened.

Footsteps approached—only one set, Virgil noticed, dragging along the floor as the person walked. Virgil slowly picked up his crutch, silently getting ready for whoever had just arrived. He hoped it was Roman, or Logan, since they were at least familiar; and it seemed likely that it was, given Emile’s point about keys; but those invisible strangers had been allowed in once, and there was every chance that one of them had returned.

The footsteps stopped. Just outside the room, from the sound of it.

Virgil was trembling, but not as badly as Patton was.

Something thumped on the floor, like a bag being dropped, but not as loud. And the human entered the room.

…

Logan turned off the ignition of his car, letting his forehead fall forward to rest on the steering wheel. He sat there for a while, his eyes closed. It had been a long day, and it was barely noon.

He had spent over an hour in the hospital waiting room, sitting in the silence and hoping for any news.

Well. Not any news.

At last, he had been called back.

…

“Is there a Logan Fong here?”

Logan looked up from his empty coffee cup, which he’d apparently begun absently tearing apart in his fingers. He didn’t remember doing that.

A nurse stood in the doorway with a clipboard, looking around.

“That’s me,” Logan said, getting to his feet and clutching the cup awkwardly.

The nurse nodded. “You’re with Roman Reyes, correct?”

“Yes, I am.” Logan straightened his back. “Is he okay?”

“Come with me, please. You can see your friend now.”

…

Logan had spent several hours at the hospital, at his friend’s side. He would have stayed longer; but he needed to get a change of clothes (he was still in his pajamas, just with a jacket and sneakers thrown on), some items Roman had requested, Roman’s wallet, and some lunch for himself and the “mouse-men”.

He also really, really needed a nap.

He slowly lifted his head from the steering wheel, sighing heavily. He popped open the door, stepped out, and closed it behind him, locking the car. He walked up to the apartment building, tugging his jacket more tightly around himself. His pajamas didn’t do much to keep out the chill.

When he finally got upstairs and to the apartment, Logan paused for a second, then pushed open the door.

The kitchen looked the same as it always did, nothing out of place other than one of the aprons, which must have been knocked down as they were leaving. Logan bent to pick it up. It was the one Roman’s, the one that said Prince on it. He hung it back on the hook and walked to the living room, dropping his jacket on the floor just outside.

The box he had  impulsively used to hide the “mouse-men” was still there, upside down atop the table, he was relieved to see.

He stopped for a second, looking up at the ceiling, then walked over to the table, dragging his feet in a manner unusual for him. As he got closer, he frowned. Patton and Virgil were no longer hidden inside the box, instead sitting together at its side, in the open. They were cross-legged across from each other, holding hands. Virgil’s eyes bored into him as he came to a stop, accusing.

Logan cleared his throat. “Did something happen here?” he asked cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

Virgil gave him a sharp look. “Get rid of the box,” he said flatly. “Now.”

Logan paused, then reached for it. “Three, two, one,” he murmured as a warning, not wanting to startle the already unhappy “mouse-men”, then slowly lifted it up. Emile, sitting in his bed underneath, squinted in the light.

“Don’t you ever—ever—pull something like that again,” Virgil said, his voice shaking with anger.

Patton made a small sound, somewhere between a whimper and a squeak. Virgil shushed him gently.

“I apologize,” Logan said, staring, awkwardly putting the box under one arm. “I… I didn’t see another option. I had to think quickly. You have to understand, Roman—”

“I don’t care,” Virgil said. His voice was now carefully neutral, probably for Patton’s sake, but that only served to make Logan’s hair stand on end. “Now step back.”

Logan did. Twice. “Could you please tell me what I did wrong?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes. He was exhausted, and he really just wanted to lie down for a while, but he knew this needed to be dealt with first. “I—I understand that you are upset, and I also wish that there had been another way to ensure your continued concealment, but I can’t help but find this an extreme reaction—"

“Extreme reaction?” Virgil echoed, glaring up at him. Even as he did, he gently stroked his thumb over Patton’s hand, as if to assure him that he wasn’t on the receiving end of Virgil’s barely-concealed rage. “Do you understand what you did? What we’ve been going through all-freaking-day?”

“I understand that it must have been frightening, having the paramedics here, but you were never in any danger,” he began. “They were here to take Roman to the hospital. Not to snoop through our house, let alone look for you. The box was a precaution to avoid unwanted questions. Everything is fine, now. No one else will be coming here, and they won’t come back.”

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Virgil said. “I feel so much better.”

“It’s true,” Logan said. “Now—again, are the three of you all right?”

Virgil took a three second count. Then he looked up at Logan again. “Do we look all right?” he said, his voice shaking once more. “Does Patton? Emile? What the hell could we have done, if one of those para-things had looked under the box? We were just in there, sitting in the dark, listening, unable to do a thing. And Patton—” He cut himself off, looking away.

Patton, meanwhile, was still staring down at the tabletop, looking vaguely shell-shocked.

Logan nodded to himself before slowly lowered himself to the floor, setting the box off to the side. Two pairs of eyes—Virgil’s and Emile’s—followed the movement closely, while Patton barely glanced up. He adjusted his glasses, then leaned back on his hands in an uncharacteristically lax posture, both because he was so bone-weary and because he simply didn’t feel like keeping up his usual professional appearance, especially as diminished as it was by his attire. He took a deep breath.

“Patton,” Logan said, “Virgil, Emile, I am deeply sorry. I swear to you, there was no other way to hide you, at least none that made itself apparent to me in the very limited time and the mental state I possessed this morning.” He broke off to yawn, hiding it behind one of his hands. He put that hand back on the floor behind him, shifting wearily. “I regret that my actions caused you any hardship, any pain, any excess worry. I….” Logan sighed. “I’m sorry.”

He looked over the three faces watching him, then let himself lean back until he was lying down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He kept his legs bent, so his knees were up in the air.

“Is… is R-Roman ok-kay?” Patton asked, getting his attention.

Logan blinked, realizing he had been nearly asleep. “He will be,” he answered.

“What happened?” Emile asked, his voice hesitant.

Logan yawned, shifting to look around his legs at the table before turning his gaze back to the ceiling. “You know he has asthma,” he started. “Well, he had an attack last night. I woke up and found him, and he couldn’t breathe. So I had to call the paramedics to take him to the hospital. That’s why they were here.” He let his eyes shut. “I couldn’t… there wasn’t another way. But Roman insisted that I hide you three before I called, even though he could hardly talk. He wanted to keep you safe before he’d accept help.”

The “mouse-men” were silent.

“He’s still there now, and I’m going back this afternoon. After… after lunch.” Logan bit back another yawn. “He should be home tomorrow, maybe the next day. They want to keep an eye on him until then. Make sure he’s really better.” His voice was nearly a mumble as he finished talking.

“Are… you okay?” one of the “mouse-men” asked. Logan wasn’t sure which.

“Mmm. Tired,” he answered softly. And he fell asleep right there, on the living room floor.