#i need to work on Leander’s voice but i’ll get there!

[harmlessghosty]

Leander + MC ->Coffee shop AU x fake dating (Leander's suggestion)?

Hi there~! I did my best, but I made this a little bit of a Valentine’s Day idea as well. I hope it’s fun to read!

—

“This is bullshit. All for a free pastry and a half-price coffee?” you ask with a snarl. “You have the balls to buy drinks for everyone in the bar, but you draw the line at spending on a fresh-baked croissant?”

Leander laughs and leans forward onto the small cafe table, his eyes glimmering with heavy interest. “It’s a deal for couples,” he explains, “for Valentine’s Day. In addition, I see you’re enjoying your latte much quicker than I’m eating the pastry.”

You roll your eyes and stare down at your empty mug. Of course you enjoyed the coffee; caffeine was just about the only thing that got you through your busy day most of the time. Plus, with Leander offering to pay for it, you really couldn’t pass up an afternoon at a nice cafe, even if that meant pretending to be a couple for a discount.

“Come now. Is it really so difficult to treat me like your partner?” he asks with a pout in a low voice so that no one could overhear. After all, if the server caught onto your ruse, the deal might have been voided…though you weren’t sure how they could tell. Maybe it was obvious. “This could be a wonderful date if you allowed it to be.”

“We’re not dating,” you hiss back, checking around you for a sign of someone standing a bit too close. “I’m only doing this for the cheap lunch.”

He leans back in his chair, his broad chest on display, making him look larger and stronger than he normally did. For a moment, you found yourself staring at the expanse of muscles in front of you before catching yourself and turning back to your empty latte. Ridiculous that such a guy could do little more than stick out his chest and hypnotize you. If anything, your admiration of his body made you look more like a real couple.

Noticing your sudden shyness, he stretches his arms high over his head. “I suppose we could tell the server if you’re truly uncomfortable,” he offers, shooting you a smirk. “We should be honest, shouldn’t we? You don’t seem like the type to lie.”

“Shut up. I’d rather not spend as much money on us.”

He reaches his arms across the table, placing his hands upward on the fake wood. “Take them,” he says, wiggling his fingers in invitation. “They’re warm, and the temperature is quite cold in here.”

You look down at his large hands and think. Sure, you’re acting like a couple, but do you really have to…?

Then again, it certainly was cold in the cafe, so what did it matter? And you were close enough friends that surely you weren’t scared of a little hand-holding in public, right? What were you—chicken?

Sighing, feeling a heat ride up your neck, you place your hands into Leander’s palms. Immediately, he grasps them in a firm grip, almost as though he’s frightened you’ll let him go. The cafe seems much busier than it was when you first entered, with people pressing close to your seats as they wait for their orders. After a moment, he tugs your hands closer to the center of the table, forcing you to scoot your chair in further. Underneath, your shoes accidentally step on his boots, which makes you jump and gasp.

In response, Leander smiles and pushes his feet closer, linking his ankle to yours. “You’re that kind of date, hm?” he teases. “It’s not something I expected, but I appreciate how forward you are.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” you mumble, staring once again at your drink. Could the server be any slower with the bill? You had to get out of that coffee shop before…

Well, before this fake date turned into something a little more real.

He squeezes your hands again before releasing one. It lifts to your chin, where he tilts up your head. His eyes, dark-lined and mysterious, flit with a seriousness you’re not used to seeing. “Hey,” he says, voice so quiet that you have to follow his pull forward in order to hear him. “I enjoy the time I’m spending with you. There’s a reason I invited you rather than anyone else.”

You find yourself nodding, though you’re not quite sure you understand.

He pinches your chin to ensure your attention is entirely on him, as though it wasn’t already. “I wanted you here for my Valentine’s date,” he says. “Accept it. I didn’t plan on letting you go hungry on a day like this.”

“I wouldn’t have gone hungry. I can take care of myself,” you counter, though the bite in your voice is practically nonexistent.

“At the very least, it’s nice to do something good for another person,” Leander replies, his genuine smile lighting the room enough that a customer or two seems to turn in your direction. “I pride myself on my work, and you’re important to me. If this isn’t going to be a real date, then at least allow me to pay your share.”

You let yourself smile without holding back. Though Leander seems to invite everyone out in a steady rotation of partners, somehow you feel…special. Maybe this really is something serious, or maybe it’s a ruse, but for now, it’s something that you appreciate from a friend.

“Fine,” you respond, taking hold of the hand beneath your chin and patting it gently. He blushes at the touch. “Only because you’re handsome though.”

“Bold, hearing that from you. I’ll treasure those words for the rest of my life.”

“Stop that,” you say, rolling your eyes but appreciating the idea that he might really hold onto your words for some time. The idea makes your heart skip a beat.

He lets go of you entirely, aside from the hold of his ankles around yours as he takes a bite of his pastry. Somehow the touch beneath the table feels even more intimate than the hand holding. “Someday,” he says with a flirty smile, “we can meet to get to know each other better in a place quieter than this.”

“I’d like that,” you reply before you think it through. Settling with the romantic moment, you sigh out your exasperation. “That would be nice, Leander. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. It would be my honor.”

And his grin is so sparkling that you can’t help but let the butterflies flutter through your stomach.

[doki-doki-imagines]

tw: smut, choking, afab!reader

author note: Since I'll never have canon butler!vere I decided to write my own butler!vere, the power of brattiness is on my side LOL. I don't know how it is but I hope you'll enjoy reading this!

How you could trust that scam of a mage that is Leander is beyond you. 

“I just need a little help, nothing will go wrong I swear!” He says with a whiny voice that makes him sound so pathetic

 ‘My ass’ you thought.

That’s how thanks to your kind heart you find yourself with a new curse, that is not worse than the previous one, you must admit, but still a pain in the ass.

Talking about ass, seeing Leander jump around in full cheerleader uniform to keep the humor high between the Bloodhounds was a real sight, his mint green miniskirt flying around and rising a bit too high than it should, giving a glimpse of the curve of his ass.

Maybe if Leander put some more work in his brain rather than in his muscles you wouldn’t be in this situation. You glance at him from a corner of the bar, and your eyes soften at the scene in front of you; everyone so happy, not a single worry, just cheers and the clacks of pints of beer.

Just happiness, and you feel a pang in your heart thinking about how much you have missed all of this in your life.

A pang that rapidly left when warmth engulfed your body.

“What are you doing here, all alone?” It’s Vere's raspy voice. You turn around and you see the spark in those foxy eyes, but it takes a second, an uncoordinated movement, and your hands fall on his chest, your very naked hands on his equally bare chest.

You can see his eyes getting wide before white smoke spreads all around him, you look around but thankfully nobody notices what is going on. When you look back it’s almost hard to believe what is standing in front of you.

Vere is in a butler uniform, a purple tie matching his previous clothing, but the color of the uniform is lucid black in contrast with the white shirt. He looks at himself, maroon hair swirls with every move of his head.

“If you wanted my services you should have just asked” He chuckles, that fake chuckle he always uses to hide his real, more beautiful but way higher laughter.

You stay still, Vere is beautiful, and also very dangerous, your mouth is dry and you don’t understand if it is because of his new uniform or because his proposal sounded cunning to your trained ears.

“Come with me, master.” You notice how low his voice gets before calling you that way, his gloved hand touches your waist, slightly forcing you towards one of the many alleyways in the back of the bar. You keep walking, but your eyes find their pace looking at his face, his marks still present, the corner of his lips upwards, his ears twitching in what you suspect is delight.

Vere opens one door at the end of the alley, the wood is moldy and the red color is now barely visible, you don’t move an inch, so Vere bows a little, his hand toward the room, a silent ‘after you’.

The room is surprisingly clean, lace doily adorning the tables, fresh flowers in each vase, they are your faves and you start to question how much the little incident of before was actually planned.

“Sit down master, I’ll prepare you tea.” Vere taps on a chair in front of the kitchen island, he doesn’t wait for you to move, already walking towards the kettle, showing you his back.

“I’d rather have coffee” You reply, finally sitting where Vere showed you “Oolong tea it is then” Vere chirps, maybe hoping he got nicer was asking too much.

Silence resonates in the room, while you both wait for the water to boil, Vere never turns to you, so you have the time to admire his new fit: apart from his shoulder the upper part of the uniform is backless, you can see his spine and you remember when Ais told you that some yokai hate to have their back covered since it is one of the most sensible part of their bodies. Your heart starts to thrum faster, thinking how much you’d like to trace his spine down with your fingertips, your gaze lower till you meet the fur of his tail, so big and soft and you know how much Vere likes to take care of it.

“You should snap a picture” Vere takes you down on earth again “I’d like to look at myself when all of this will wear off.” You don’t have time to reply, but maybe it is better that way, he turns a little, so he can side-eye your reaction and you feel so little under his teasing gaze.

“Your tea.” You hesitate before taking the cup, tea has never been your favorite beverage but right now it tastes like abrosia on your tongue. Vere doesn’t even touch his cup, eye feline while he slowly walks behind you, his hands now on your shoulders.

“You look so tense.” His gloved hands try to untangle the knots in your muscles, the point of his tail tickles up your right leg, while you can sense his lips getting more and more near your left ear.

“What do you want me to do master? I’m here for you.” Vere whispers, hands sliding down your shoulders to your collarbones, lips now dangerously close to your neck. Warmth envelops your body, clothes now a bother you’d gladly get rid of.

“Touch me, Vere.” His eyes soften, you don’t see them, but you feel his sharp canines into your neck, and his gloved hands running to your chest, groping and playing with it, the sensation dulled by the layers of clothes.

“Eat me-“ Your phrase interrupted by Vere’s mouth on yours, his teeth sinking in your bottom lip, but not hard enough to break it, his tongue soon meeting yours in a passionate dance of mingling breaths and broken moans.

And it was so hard not to grip his face to pull him closer, to sink your hands in his marron hair, maybe massage his furry ears-

For now, you’ll have to settle for sucking his tongue, savoring his gasps.

Sadly he pulls away, you follow his lips not ready to relinquish the warmth his making you feel. Vere smirks, it’s nice to see such delicious prey so needy for him. He opens your pants, pushing your hands away when you try to do it, his lips finding yours each time you try to get in control of the situation.

“Turn on your back.” You follow Vere's order, not before throwing your pants somewhere on the floor. You soon feel his hand on your hair, the next moment it pushed your head onto the kitchen counter, your ass up in the air, brushing against his clothed erection.

“You want to be eaten here too?” His gloved head touches your core, still covered by your undergarment, he plays with it, snapping it against your warmth, making you whine.

“Ah-ah master-“ His chest presses against your back “I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you want” Vere chirps, but the low tone of his voice tells you he isn’t as unaffected as he’d like to look.

“Please, touch me there!” You moan out, knowing full well you’ll be flooded by shame when your mind will start to work again.

Now it’s not a problem, not when you feel Vere’s blowing on your now exposed sex, sticky strands already drenching your thighs

You gasp and Vere chuckles before delving into your core, Vere’s tongue swept between your dripping folds in a steady motion, sweeping upwards repeatedly before kissing and sucking your clit.

Your hips jerk, pushing his face even more against your buttcheeks, your sex clenches on his warm tongue, sticky with saliva and your essence.

“Fuck, Vere-“ You grip hard the kitchen island “you are so g-good, please-” mind getting numb by the fog of pleasure, body burning in bliss.

“You have been so good, so good” He whispers, between deep licks and gentle sucking.

Vere doesn’t stop even when you reach the apex of pleasure, lapping you up like a dog. When he finally pulls off you turn around, eyes teary so he is a bit blurred, but you can see it, your essence staining his chin, some strands of his marron hair stuck on his face, your gaze trails downwards when you notice his boner constrained in his tailored pants.

“Yeah master turn around, you want this too right” His voice is raspy and you nod while he pushes down his pants, he doesn’t wear any underwear and you bask in the satisfaction you could get Vere so hard.

 He unties the bow “Gimme your hands” He orders, the soft cotton of his purple tie bonding your wrist together behind your back “This way you won’t have to worry” Vere winks, before pulling out a tissue from the front pocket of his jacket, you tilt your head silently questioning what he wanted to do, a smirks grace his face.

You understand when he pushes it into your mouth “You’ll need it, we don’t want to wake all our neighboors right?” Vere winks, and you would have gladly sent him to fuck himself if it wasn’t for your full mouth and his cock penetrating your core. You’d love to wait a moment, for the ache to dull a little, but Vere doesn’t share your idea, fucking into your hole without any care hands leaving indents on your thighs for how hard he is trying to keep you in place.

“V-Vere! S-Slow down-“ You gasps out, spine arching

“Master, you still don’t know your body?” Vere slows a little, his thrust still hitting deep into you, making you feel all his length “Your core is clenching so hard, it doesn’t want me to pull away” You close your eyes, head tilting back, letting out a shameful sigh; fuck he is right.

Damn Vere and his skills.

His right hand moves from thigh and trail up to reach your neck, so exposed and inviting. Vere grips, hard, and you gag opening your eyes wide.

“Master, please tell me to choke you.”  Red eyes swirling in liquid pleasure, mouth shaped in an ‘o’, shirt wrinkled, jacket in a similar fashion, he takes off the tissue in your mouth, drenched in spit.

“Choke me, Vere.” You gasp out the best you can, his hand so tight on your throat. He nods and moans out, the more he increases the pressure the harder you clench on his length.

You feel your mind numbing, his thrusts get faster and arhythmic, but they always hit your sweet spot which makes you see stars every time. He pressed his forehead against yours, his sweat mixing with yours, Vere pounds into you, slower, but harder and you can see his maroon tail high every time he sheath his entire length into you.

A higher moan from the man on top of you is a telltale sign of his impending orgasm, your lips touch his initiating a kiss that is all tongue and whines till you both reach your apex.

Vere pulls out and you soon feel his cum staining your thighs, you wince thinking you’ll need to ask the scam mage for some kind of pill. Vere massages your thighs “Is your throat fine?”, he kisses your knee while he waits for your answer “It has been better, but I’m fine.”

Vere nods “This curse of yours is pretty interesting, do you agree?” He pushes back some strands of his maroon hair, reddish eyes looking directly into yours.

“Talking about curses, can you untie me?” You ask arching your back, showing your still bonded wrists.

Vere smirks and a shiver runs down your spine; nothing good comes from that.

“I think the master needs to relax some more-“ Vere gets on his knees again, you lift yourself a little from the counter, looking at him in the eyes, pupils wide and with that sparkle.

You sigh “Yeah the master really needs it, the night is still long after all, help me out” You notice his tail wag left and right.

“My pleasure.”

The night is still long.

[uhohwhathaveidone]

Hii I was abit nerbous requesting this cause it’s my first time requesting a fic from you but I would love to see a Sebastian sallow x reader fic that would be about after the reader takes the poly juice potion to be professor black the reader decides to pull a prank on Sebastian and scare him as professor black while making the weirdest convo while talking to him(you can decide whatever this can be) Sebastian is just flabbergasted and after the poly juice potion wears off the reader can’t help but cackle when she encounters Sebastian who goes on a rant about professor black and the reader admits it was her and not actually professor black the reader decides to leave Sebastian hanging as she makes a run for it and Sebastian chases her the moment she runs and after he grabs her he corners the reader and in close proximity tells the reader that she has a lot to explain and this causes a really wholesome kiss between the both (sorry if this is long I wasn’t trying to make it long😭 but it would make my absolute day seeing you do this request)

I was just laughing to myself as I wrote this, I'm so funny let me tell you.

Polyjuice (S.S)

Leander is here getting bullied because I can't help myself. Ominis has been corrupted into joining you in pranks, he played a very important role in embarrassing Sebastian. I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your request! I hope you enjoy <3

      You giggled to yourself as you stirred the cauldron, placing the small tuff of hair you had somehow managed to take from Professor Sharp into the mixture, watching it change colours instantly. “This is going to be brilliant, Ominis!” You said, lifting your head to smile at Ominis, who shook his head as he tried to hide a smile. “I’d be surprised if you managed to make it ten minutes into this plan of yours, let alone into the hall.” You smiled as you poured the mixture into a cup, shaking your head in anticipation. “I’ll make it work; don’t you worry. Do we have everything here? Robes, items of interest, things like that?” You asked, watching Ominis nod as he pointed to where he had left what you requested. He had no idea how you managed to bring him into such a scheme, but there he was as he listened to you as you went through your plan, smirking when you brought up your endgame. “Sebastian’s not going to know what hit him, just you wait. I can see his face now; red, probably embarrassed, he won’t be able to look Sharp in the eye for weeks!” You giggled to yourself as thought about it, glancing over at Ominis to see him smile. “Bottoms up, I suppose.” With that, you tipped the cup to your lips and downed the liquid, gagging a bit at the sour taste. Ominis frowned as he listened to you react to the potion, glad that he was unable to witness the horror that would be you morphing into one of your teachers.

      “That went better than expected.” Sharp’s voice echoed through the Undercroft, which startled Ominis for a quick moment. “Well, you certainly sound like him.” He breathed, a slight huff escaping him. You laughed; it felt unnatural to hear Sharps voice mimic your own, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing more. “Now you sound like someone dosed Sharp with something. If you hope to get away with this, you need to act like the professor.” Ominis said, shaking his head. You finished changing your robe and grabbing what you needed from the floor, taking a breath as you tried to get into character. “Right, thank you for your helpful insight, Mr. Gaunt.” Ominis cleared his throat as he tried to hold back a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s unsettling how quickly you switched up, I have half the mind to believe that Sharp was here, if it wasn’t for the fact that I heard your voice a few minutes ago.” You frowned playfully as you took a few steps around, trying to match your gait with the professor’s before you headed out. “Do I sound like him when I walk, Ominis?” You asked, turning to walk over to him as he furrowed his brows. “It seems like you have his walk, I can only assume that to anyone else, you are the professor.” You smiled, moving to leave the Undercroft. “Perfect, I shall be back when my plan is done.” “I fear for anyone that comes in contact with you.”

      You walked down the halls, speaking with a student every now and then as you searched for certain students, careful to avoid the actual Professor Sharp. You turned down a hall as you narrowed your eyes, landing on the head of Leander, who stood on the side as he spoke to some of his friends. Smiling to yourself, you walked over and stood behind him, raising a brow as you listened to him talk. You had arrived mid-conversation, and only caught Leander talking about some Slytherin students when his friends motioned for him to turn around. Leander looked up at you with wide eyes, the colour draining from his face. “Mr. Prewett.” You said, looking down at him. He frowned slightly as he tried to avoid your gaze. “Professor Sharp, hello.” You held your composure as you continued to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get some of that potion on you yesterday?” Leander furrowed his brows, unsure what to say. “The potion?” “Yes, the one that you claim, “Got stuck to your robe and fell over.” Did you get any on you?” Leander nodded slightly, cheeks heating up as he remembered potions class. “Yes sir, but why do you ask?” You smirked slightly as you looked to his friends as they tried to keep straight faces. “You smell horrible. Have you not changed your robes since yesterday?” Leander’s friends snickered behind him as his face grew redder. “No sir, I didn’t think that it would smell.” “It does, I suggest you fix it quickly before another professor gives you detention for being unhygienic.” You turned away from him and began walking away, smiling to yourself as you listened to Leander mutter to himself and sprint away to his dorm.

      You continued down the halls as you searched for your final victim, who sat alone in the courtyard reading a book. You shook your hands slightly in excitement before you walked through the doors, walked right up to Sebastian. “Mr. Sallow, I’m glad I found you here.” You said, startling Sebastian as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “Professor? Were you looking for me?” You nodded as Sebastian stood and put his book into his bag, confused. “Indeed. I had some concerns after yesterday's Potions class that I thought I should address.” “Concerns?”  Sebastian asked, frowning. You nodded, looking around the empty courtyard. “All by yourself today?” He nodded, still confused. “Rather unusual, given your closeness with Miss L/N and Mr. Gaunt.” You watched Sebastian closely as his cheeks heated slightly, shaking his head as he shrugged his shoulders. “They were busy, figured I could use some time alone to catch up on some reading.” You smirked as you nodded.

      “My concerns from potions class pertain to your closeness with y/n. I have half the mind to separate you two, so you get your work done more efficiently. Can’t have you two distracting each other.” You said, turning away from Sebastian to hide the smile that fought its way to your lips. Sebastian stuttered, his face heating up more as he watched you in confusion. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by distracting?” You shook your head, trying to form a frown to fight your smirk. “I mean, Mr. Sallow, that I don’t want your girlfriend blowing herself up because you wanted to show-off.” You forced the frown to stay as you turned back to Sebastian. You watched his face become even more red as he tried to stutter out that you were not, in fact, his girlfriend. “Ah, so Miss l/n isn’t your girlfriend?” You asked, smirking at Sebastian as he shook his head frantically. “A word of advice then, Mr. Sallow. Become a better actor.” He looked up at you with furrowed brows, confused. “By that I mean, stop acting smitten with her. You have half the castle believing that you were together.” You turned again, fighting your smirk from becoming a big smile.

      “I do not act like I’m…smitten!” Sebastian said, frowning in embarrassment. You shook your head as you looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Of course, my mistake. Another thing, however.” You reached into your pocket as your fingers grasped around the fabric as you smirked. “Perhaps you should keep better track of your clothing, as well.” You tossed the cloth to Sebastian, watching his thought narrow as he caught it. His eyes widened as his face grew hot, staring at the boxers that sat in his hands. “It’s rather weird to have your initials on your undergarments, but perhaps you deal with this problem often?” Sebastian stuttered as he watched you walk away in horror, unable to speak as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. You quickly walked down the halls as you made your escape, feeling the potion wear off as you hid in one of the off-limits restrooms. You laughed quietly to yourself as you changed back to your normal state, tears in your eyes as you replayed the events. You had to thank Ominis for the boxers when you returned.

      You roamed the halls casually as you passed by students, making your way back to the Undercroft with a smile on your face. You smiled as you greeted Sharp as you walked by, who greeted you in return as he spoke to another professor. You smirked to yourself as you passed by Leander, who had changed into fresh robes as he talked to his friends, asking them if he still smelled weird. You turned a corner as you spotted the entrance to the Undercroft, looking around before you quickly disappeared. You tiptoed across the ground as you smirked to yourself, hearing Sebastian’s loud voice echo off the walls.

      “I can’t look him in the eye ever again, do you understand? How can I walk into the class now after this?” Sebastian shouted, head in his hands, as he sat down. You watched Ominis as he smiled, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he listened to Sebastian. You walked closer, clearing your throat as you hid a smile. “Sebastian? Are you alright?” You asked, standing in front of him as he shook his head. “No! I am not alright!” He shouted, looking up at you with red cheeks. You bit your lip as you held back a laugh, forcing a frown as you looked over at Ominis, who only shook his head as he continued to shake. “Well, what happened then?” You asked, patting his head in hopes of trying to comfort him. He sighed as he pulled the boxers from his robe pocket. “This! Sharp had it for some reason! He handed them back to me, it was horrible! I don’t understand how he even got his hands on them!” You broke a bit as a small laugh left your lips, quickly bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “It’s not funny! It’s horrible!” He shouted, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded, biting your lip harder. “Of course, you’re right. Was that all?” You asked, watching Ominis from the corner of your eye as he covered his mouth. “He- he said I was bad at acting!” You furrowed your brows as you looked at him. “I mean, he said we were dating, and that I was bad at hiding it!”

      You couldn’t hold yourself together as your shoulders shook as you laughed. Sebastian watched you as you bent over, holding your sides as you laughed, confused. You felt tears in your eyes once again as your uncontrollable laughter got louder, unable to look at Sebastian. “It’s not funny! Why are you laughing?” You sucked in a few breaths as you looked at him, backing away a bit as you tried to speak. “I- I used Polyjuice to trick you. It’s rather hilarious! Your face!” You gasped, laughing harder as you confessed. “You what!?” Sebastian stood; brows furrowed as he made his way towards you. You quickly straightened up as your eyes widened, quickly running away as you continued to laugh to yourself. “Get back here!” You heard Sebastian shout, running after you as you left the Undercroft.

      You shouted behind you as you ran, seeing Sebastian behind you. “I’m sorry! I swear!” You giggled as you ran around a corner, almost hitting the wall in front of you as you panted. Sebastian came up behind you in a second, grabbing you and pushing you against the wall as you continued to laugh. You tried to catch your breath as he stared you down, brows furrowed as he waited. “You got me, I’m a criminal.” You breathed, unable to stop yourself from chuckling again. Sebastian sighed as he placed his hands on either side of your head, staring into your eyes. You tried to hold in a laugh as you studied his face, his freckled cheeks still red; whether it was from embarrassment, anger, fatigue, or all three, you didn’t know. “Care you explain yourself?” He whispered, quirking a brow as you brought your hand to your mouth, hiding your smile. “I’m sorry?” You whispered, your shoulders shaking once again. Sebastian sighed as he waited for you to calm down. You looked into his eyes as you smiled softly, scrunching your nose as you spoke. “You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.” His face heated up, causing you to smile more. “See? So cute.” “You’re not getting out of this by being cute.” Sebastian said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to hold back a smile. “But I’m not the one being cute.”

      “Where did you get my boxers?” Sebastian asked, frowning as you shrugged. “I asked Ominis to get them, thought it would be funny.” He scoffed as he shook his head. “You’re a nuisance. Pretending to be Sharp? You could have gotten detention.” You shrugged again, smirking. “But I didn’t. Ten points to me.”  Sebastian smirked at you, taking a hand, and flicking you in the forehead. You quickly brought your hand up to where he got you, pouting. “Ow! Is that anyway to treat your non-girlfriend?” Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek, pondering. “Do you want me to kiss it better, then?” “Absolutely not. What am I, seven?” He sighed as he smiled, taking a glance into your eyes before he brought his face closer to yours. You felt his nose touch your own as he whispered. “I’m a great actor, for your information.” You scoffed, closing your eyes as you smiled. “You’re really not, Mr. Smitten.” “Says the non-girlfriend.” You huffed as you opened your eyes, crossing your arms. “I’m great at acting, fooled you. Though it’s not that hard to do.” “You just don’t shut up, do you?” “Make me then.” You couldn’t stop yourself from talking, eyes widening as you realized what you had said. Your cheeks heated up instantly as you realized just how close you were, watching Sebastian ponder for a minute before smirking. “All right.” With that, he closed the gap, his soft lips connecting with your own. You smiled into the kiss, tasting the apple tart that he had eaten during lunch, its sweet taste making the kiss even sweeter. You brought your hand up to his hair, massaging his scalp as you played with the soft brown locks.

      You brought your other hand to tap on his cheek, signaling that you needed air. Sebastian reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily as he tried to fill his lungs with air. You smiled as you rested your forehead against your own. “Is this what you do with your non-girlfriends?” “Cheeky.” You giggled as you placed another small kiss to his lips. “You love it.” “Of course, I do.”

[imagrindylow]

my first anon omg 😭 really just happy to find fellow Leander stans because it was starting to feel v lonely out here lmao I'm dying for more Leander fluff, I wish I had a creative prompt but I trust you to come up with one (if you have the time and/or inclination to do so) KTHXBYYYE

Hi!! Thank you for the request!! I always have the time and inclination to write for Leander! I'm so, so glad he's getting more content recently. Hope you like it!!

Sticky Situation

Leander Prewett / gn!Reader 4.8k Words Summary: In an attempt to save Garreth from getting into serious trouble with Professor Sharp, you and Leander cover for him and find yourself in detention together, which leads to a date the following evening. Content Warnings: Fluff and kissing.

~~~

Garreth was down to his final straw with Professor Sharp when his cauldron started to bubble up dangerously close to the rim of the large steaming pot before him. Sharp had instructed the class to brew Draught of Living Death, which of course Garreth was more than proficient at, finishing the assignment before anyone else and bottling it, setting it off to the side waiting to turn it in until the end of class as assigned, with plenty of class time left over for experimenting.

Professor Sharp was in his office when the iridescent bubbles started to finally spill over the rim, with nothing Garreth could do to stop it at this point. His hands trembled as he adjusted the temperature of his flame with his wand, but the damage was already done. He wiped the nervous sweat from his brow on the rolled up sleeve of his uniform shirt and watched as the bubbles spread and coat his station with sticky residue.

“Bloody hell, I’m done for…” He muttered, burying his face in his hands.

You and Leander were stationed on either side of Garreth, and had been deep in concentration on the difficult brew when his panicked voice drew your eyes to him. Both of you watched with mouths agape as the bubbles continued to spread over your own stations. You and Leander scrambled to move your ingredients to safety, but it was useless, the bubbles continued to rise and soon was spilling over the edges of the table and onto the ground.

“Garreth! What in Godric’s name?” Leander chided in a harsh whisper, brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…. Ugh I’m going to get expelled! I’m serious. I’ll miss you both, please remember to write me when I’m transferred to reformatory school.” He was pacing back and forth, eyes darting between his mishap and Sharps office door, just waiting for the professor who was already always in a state of perpetual exasperation to come back out.

Leander scoffed, but his expression softened quickly when he recalled a conversation he had with Garreth after the last time he’d gotten into trouble in class for something that was much less destructive than this was seeming to be. Reformatory school might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but Leander didn’t doubt that Garreth would face severe consequences for this.

“Calm yourself, just act natural, if that’s possible for you.” Leander said and quickly swapped places with Garreth, now standing in front of the continuously sudsing cauldron himself. Garreth started profusely thanking Leander, rambling on about how he really owed him one for this.

You had to back away from the workstation to keep the bubbles – none of which seemed to be popping, only accumulating further – from getting onto your clothes. Your fellow classmates started to take notice, looking on with expressions equally split between amusement and disgust. Whispers and chuckles rose from the work stations surrounding yours as the bubbles continued to flow from the cauldron and onto the floor.

Leander didn’t need to put on much of an act in order to appear convincingly upset with the situation when Professor Sharp reentered the classroom from his office. Silence fell over the entire class, all eyes on Sharp as they waited for him to discover the mess.

It was almost second nature to check Garreth’s section first upon entering the room, but none of the previous potion disasters he’d witnessed in the past could have prepared him for this one. The bubbles were quickly spreading across the floor as Sharp waved his wand, casting a silent spell which halted the bubbles’ migration across the stone floor and popped them all at once, a shiny thick goo bursting from every individual sphere, coating yours, Garreth’s, and Leander’s shoes, as students from surrounding potions stations hopped out of the way.

“Mr. Weasley! I believe you were on your final warning after the last time you disrupted your classmates with your antics.” Professor Sharps voice boomed from across the room. He sounded absolutely furious as he strode towards Garreth, getting a better look at the mess surrounding your stations.

Garreth gestured, eyes wide and pleading, at Leander’s pristine cauldron in front of him. “Sir… I didn’t-” Leander cut Garreth off mid sentence, speaking very matter of factly as he explained the situation. “It was me, Professor. I must have miscalculated something, and then-”

Sharp cut Leander off, holding his hand up in an attempt to save Leander his breath as he lied through his teeth. “Do you really expect me to believe that you caused this mess, Mr. Prewett? You, who notoriously takes every available moment of class time ensuring that things are always brewed correctly?”

“I-I…” Leander stammered. He had really wanted to save Garreth from whatever consequences he’d otherwise face, but Sharp was right, Leander was a model student. Leander was at a loss for words, his usually quick wit failing him in the brooding Professor’s presence.

“It was actually me, Professor. I’m sorry.” You spoke up, seeing that Leander’s attempt at saving Garreth from a fate worse than detention was failing. You were known to get up to some mischief with Garreth and with other classmates of yours, not usually in this class, but the story was more believable than Leander being the one who caused the commotion.

Sharp eyes flickered between the three of you, his gaze lingering the longest on you, your head hung in shame, as you acted the part of the culprit. The rest of the class was silent around you as they watched you take the blame, no one daring to say anything to the contrary.

“Is that true, boys?” Sharp asked, his eyes now searching their faces for the truth.

Garreth only nodded after Leander spoke up in agreement with you. “Yes sir. I was attempting to take the blame for MC. It was them. I apologize for not being truthful initially.” Leander backed up your story, the fact that you were now covering for him sitting heavy in his mind. It was a nice feeling, he couldn’t deny. He had to restrain himself from smiling at your thoughtful gesture.

“That will be a detention for you, MC.” Sharp spoke sternly, his eyes piercing yours, his disapproval palpable.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, accepting your fate.

“And you as well, Mr. Prewett. For lying in the first place, trying to cover for MC. You will join them in detention after dinner this evening.” Sharp said, disappointment clear in his expression as his eyes bore into Leander. “Now everyone, back to work. I expect to see a perfect bottle of Draught of Living Death from each of you by the end of class.”

Leander’s mouth fell open, he hadn’t expected to still be reprimanded after you had covered for him, but, one detention wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. And surely, it was far less severe than whatever punishment Garreth would have been dealt.

~~~

That evening after dinner you made your way to the potions classroom promptly at 7:30 and found Leander already there. Professor Sharp came out from his office and looked on each of you with a stern expression, his arms folded in front of his chest. “The two of you will be scrubbing down the work stations, as well as the entire classroom floor.”

He conjured up the necessary cleaning supplies for the two of you – buckets of hot soapy water, as well as clean water for rinsing, several scrub brushes, rags, and a pair of cleaning gloves for each of you. Of course, you’d both be required to clean the muggle way, hands and knees to the cold, rough stone floor.

Professor Sharp collected both of your wands, and set them on his desk in his office, where he informed you he’d be for the duration of the detention. He retired to his office, closing the door behind him, and you and Leander shed your robes and got to work, starting on scrubbing off the tops of the work stations.

You began with the furthest station from the office door, allowing the opportunity to engage in whispered conversation while you cleaned together. Shirt sleeves rolled to elbows, both of you donned the ugly yellow cleaning gloves and got to work removing the layers upon layers of burned on gunk from the table tops beneath the cauldron stands.

You caught Leander staring at you as you scrubbed at the old wooden surface, a rosy blush spreading on his face when you turned your attention towards him. Just watching his cheeks flush made a heat begin to rise in your own.

“Why did you cover for me?” He whispered, trying to hide the grin on his face as he spoke. “I’m sure with a bit more convincing I could have gotten Sharp to believe it was actually me who caused all that mess.”

You noticed the muscles in his forearms flex as he gripped the table edge with one hand for leverage while circling with the scrub brush in the other. You cleared your throat and brought your eyes back to his as you spoke.

“No way. He could see right through your act,” you said with a quiet chuckle. “I just… didn’t want you to get in trouble. And you seemed set on protecting Garreth, and that made me want to, as well.”

“Mhmm… He really would have been in for it. He’s been on thin ice for awhile and that would have shattered it for sure. He’s a bit of a clown occasionally but he doesn’t deserve to be suspended or expelled for it.” He said and swished his brush in the clean water, instantly darkening it, before dipping it again into the soapy water and carrying on with his scrubbing. “Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for the effort, even though we’ve both landed here anyway. You didn’t have to do that.”

You nodded. You admired his friendship with Garreth and the fact that Leander was willing to put himself in the line of fire for his best friend. Him being so selfless was really what lead you to want to help… Maybe it was simply him you admired.

“I know I didn’t have to… But it’s no trouble.” You told him and moved onto the next potions station, scrubbing it and watching it lighten in color before your eyes. You wondered when the last time anyone actually cleaned the surface was.

You worked on each work station together, quietly chatting all the while. This was probably the longest time you’d spent talking with the boy alone. You always enjoyed being sat with him and Garreth in class but you mostly remained quiet while taking in their banter. Scrubbing down the tabletops was not fun, but spending the time with Leander made it a hell of a lot more bearable. Enjoyable, even. You noticed the subtle way the corners of his lips turned upwards when he’d catch you staring. Your heart raced when you noticed him staring back, his gaze lingering on you a little too long to be considered a passing glance as you concentrated on removing a particularly stubborn mark from one of the table tops.

You were onto the last potions station, the two of you saved the worst of them for last, the station the two of you shared with Garreth. The residue from the mishap earlier hardened to a thick, slightly tacky film that coated the entire surface of the table.

By the time you were done scrubbing the table tops together, your face was hot and red, breaths coming quickly, sweat gleaming on your forehead, and Leander looked to be in much the same state. You couldn’t help yourself from getting distracted by how he looked as he leaned back against a table as he wiped the sweat from his brow on his sleeve, then stretched his shoulders out before moving on to the next half of the punishment.

Cleaning the potions stations was the easy part. Scrubbing the floors was grueling, not to mention painful, your knees beginning to ache quickly as you started working on the furthest corner of the room. Leander started on the other side of the room and you met in the middle when finished, where you both sat to catch your breath, sweating and panting, knees and back sore from your efforts.

“You know, I’m regretting covering for you, after this.” You said between harsh breaths. The grin on your face despite your look of exhaustion let him know you were only teasing, no matter how horrid this portion of the punishment was. You pulled your gloves off and wiped your sweating palms on your trousers, Leander followed suite.

He leaned back on his hands, legs splayed out in front of him. “Merlin, I can’t thank you enough for it though. Can you imagine how long this would have taken me to do alone? It’s taken the two of us hours.”

“I think you owe me one for this,” You said, your grin spreading, your eyes locked on him, drinking in the way his hair fell after hours of manual labor. You let yourself stare shamelessly, the blush on your face from the way the mere sight of the boy in front of you made you feel was hidden by the redness that came with the exhaustion of your cleaning efforts.

“Name your price. It’s yours.” He groaned, letting his head hang back, a long and tired sigh escaping his throat before he leaned back up to look at you. He noted the mischievous look on your face as you thought of how he could repay you. He raised a brow in question while you pondered.

You couldn’t very well come out and say the first thing on your mind – a kiss. That would be much too forward. But this was an opportunity, and you didn’t want to waste it. “A butterbeer, maybe two.”

You watched as his lips parted before he gave you a smile that showed his teeth. What a rare sight from him, usually so serious looking in class.

He thought for a few moments before replying. You could almost see the gears turning. He smirked and said, “You know, that sounds wonderful. But I actually think it’s Garreth who owes both of us a few drinks. I can run it past him when I get back to my dorm later.”

Your face fell at his suggestion to involve Garreth in the outing. Leander wasn’t wrong, of course, Garreth did owe you both for coming to his defense earlier. But you wanted to spend more time with Leander. Alone.

“Something wrong?” He asked, noticing your sudden change in expression, his own demeanor getting more serious, a look of concern crossing his face.

Your face twisted in thought, you pursed your lips wondering if it was even worth mentioning to him your actual intentions when it flew over his head the first time round. You sighed and decided you may as well go for it. Your voice was nervous, and quieter than it had been. “While Garreth certainly does owe us both… I was hoping to spend a bit more time with just you.”

Leander’s eyes widened, that lovely smile of his returning, a rosy pink blush rising among the freckles on his cheeks.

“Oh.” He said.

His eyes darted to the ground and he fiddled with his hands a moment before looking back up and meeting your gaze. “That actually sounds a lot nicer. Are you free tomorrow after dinner?”

“Tomorrow?” You nodded. “I am.”

Professor Sharp must have heard the chatter, and emerged from his office, his eyes scanning the classroom, and finding the pair of you sitting on the floor near the door together, the cleaning supplies surrounding you.

“This is detention, not an excuse to fraternize after hours! Get up! Both of you!” He spat, crossing the room to inspect the potions stations. The two of you got up, Leander to his feet first, he extended you a hand to pull you to yours. You savored the warmth of his touch for the few seconds your hand was in his. The eye contact you held as he helped you to your feet and stood in front of him made your breath catch.

You moved to his side, watching Professor Sharp as he inspected your work, he took his time checking every station, then wandered the room, his eyes at the stone floor, making sure no corner was missed.

“Well done.” He nodded at the pair of you in approval of the job completed. “Grab your wands from my desk and get back to your common rooms immediately. No wandering about.”

“Yes, sir.” You said in tandem with Leander. He ducked quickly into Sharp’s office, grabbing both of your wands, he handed yours to you and the two of you left the classroom together.

“I’ll find you tomorrow after dinner then, and we’ll get those butterbeers. We’ve earned them.” Leander whispered as you headed through the corridors side by side. You nodded in confirmation.

You headed to your common rooms, each of your turning in for the night, both exhausted, bodies aching for the hours of cleaning, and both with a smile on, thinking about spending more time together the next evening.

~~~

Garreth had been fast asleep when Leander returned to the dorms from detention, so it wasn’t until the following morning that he got a chance to ask Leander how it had gone.

“What did Sharp have you up to?” He wondered, plopping himself down on the foot of Leander’s bed at the first signs of the other boy waking.

“Bloody hell Gar, can I not take some time to wake up before being subjected to this?” Leander asked groggily, gesturing at the disturbance that was Garreth’s presence.

“Nah!” He waved his friend off. “Were you cleaning and polishing the cauldrons? That’s a favorite punishment of his.” Garreth said, having done this task several times. “I wish.” Leander scoffed. “We had to scrub off all of the stations, and then scrub the entire floor, the muggle way.”

Garreth looked horrified. “That classroom is huge! It’s no wonder I was asleep when you got finished, that must have taken ages!”

“It did. You’re welcome, by the way.” Leander added, sounded a bit more irritated than he meant to. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He was a typically a morning person, but his body was sore and he had hoped to soak in the comfort of his bed a while longer.

“Oh yeah… I can’t really thank you enough can I? Wild that MC covered for you and you didn’t get stuck at it alone.”

“Yeah… it was, wasn’t it?” Leander grinned with the thought of his conversation with you the night before, remembering his plans to get drinks with you this evening.

Garreth chuckled and shoved his friends leg as he watched his expression shift. He knew that look on Leander, having been around to discuss many a crush with his friend in the past. “Got a feeling they fancy you. They covered for you, not for me.”

Leander blushed and ran his hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face from his sleep. “I think… that I have a date with them later…” Leander muttered out sheepishly, trying to keep his composure as he explained the previous evenings conversation, including his attempt to include Garreth in the plans for drinks to his friend.

“Ohhhh, they do! Do you fancy them as well? Are you nervous, excited?” Garreth practically buzzed with excitement for his friend. Out of the two of them, it was Garreth who pulled more dates. He was excited that his friend was getting some well deserved attention.

“Uh… Nervous… But I do, yeah. They’re nice, and cute, and…” His voice trailed off and he sighed as he though of you, zoning out, still tired and easily slipping into a daydream.

Garreth shook the other boy’s leg again. “Snap out of it Lee. Focus. You’ve got this. Don’t be nervous. They like you, too. I know it.”

Leander took Garreth’s word for it, replaying every interaction he’s ever had with you while he finally got out of bed to ready himself for the day. Garreth followed him around, continuing to hype up his friend.

~~~

Just as promised, the following evening as dinner was concluding in the great hall, you spotted the tall red head making his way towards you, a little grin on his face as his eyes met yours. He carried himself a little taller when he saw how you smiled back at him.

You were finished eating and just chatting with a few of your house mates when he filled in the empty spot beside you on the bench, straddling it, not intending to remain in the dining hall much longer. He nodded politely at your friends as he joined, and waited for your conversation to wrap up and for you to turn your attention to him before he simply asked, “Ready?”

“I am.” You said and nodded. You excused yourself from your housemates. He got up from the table first and stood by waiting for you to join him. Nervous as he was, he was still a gentleman. He offered you his arm, which you accepted, earning yourself wide eyed looks from your friends as you left the great hall with him.

The walk through the castle was quiet, his nerves seemingly getting the better of him. Once outside of the castle you chatted about the weather as you crossed the grounds towards the path to Hogsmeade.

It was a chilly fall evening, or at least that would be your reasoning for walking so closely to him, your shoulder brushing him as your hands still clutched the arm he’d offered you.

The contact made your cheeks burn and your heart flutter. You only hoped he felt the same. You looked up at him and he broke out into that smile you’ve seen so much of from him these past few days. “How are you feeling today?” You asked him. “My back has been sore all day.”

“Mine as well.” He replied not knowing what else to say or what he should ask you in return to keep the conversation going.

He shook his head subtly, spiting himself. Why is talking to them so damn nerve wracking? The almost overbearing confidence he displayed around many was lost when it came to you. He didn’t want to put on an act. If he was going to win you he wanted to do it being his true self, even if that meant letting his anxiety poke through.

You were perfectly comfortable in his quiet presence, when it was coupled with the contact of your bodies. With your hands around his arm. His actions spoke louder than his words. He opened the door of the Three Broom Sticks for you, his hand resting on your upper back as you walked through the doorway, and he followed behind you.

The two of you found a small table for two near the back of the establishment near the fireplace. You slid your school robe off and folded it over the back of your chair. Leander pulled the seat out for you to sit before taking his place across from you. He was the very picture of a gentleman. This felt different than any of the times you’d gotten drinks with other friends of yours. You loved how this felt.

Sirona came around to take your order shortly after you’d gotten seated and there were two butterbeers on your table within minutes.

“Cheers.” He said, giving you a soft smile.

“Cheers!” You replied as you raised your mugs before sipping the drinks together.

The first few sips of the butterbeer coated both of you upper lips in sweet foam. You took a napkin to yours, but you appreciated the way he licked his lips quickly after each of his first couple of sips. Your stomach was doing flips. You had to calm yourself, directing your gaze to the fire burning in the fireplace instead.

Leander noticed how you looked at him before you diverted your gaze and he bounced his leg under the table. He loved having your eyes on him and he wanted to make you look at him like that again. He wasn’t sure why you stopped.

He had to swallow his nerves, his feelings while being kept inside were eating at him and he had to let them out. “What is this, MC?” He asked you. “Is this a date?”

Your eyes shot back to his, you were now feeling a fire inside unrelated to the one that you’d been staring into. Your heart wanted his. Your cheeks tinged pink and your heartbeat raced. “It… it can be. I’d like it, if it was.” You gave your honest answer, appreciating that he asked and got the awkwardness out of the way.

A sense of relief washed over him, finally knowing that you felt the same. You wanted it to be a date, you wanted to date him. He felt more comfortable already. “I would like that, too.”

“Well, it’s a date then.” You said, smiling at him and taking another sip of your drink.

His confidence was creeping back in, and it showed in how he took your hand from across the table and held it, his thumb tracing slowly over your knuckles.

Conversation came easily from that moment. You delved into topics that didn’t come up in casual conversations when you were amongst friends in classes. You learned about each other’s families, he talked about his many siblings. You each discussed your plans for after graduating, your hobbies, fears... One drink turned into two, turned into three, you drank each of them slowly, savoring each other’s company, but time flew by all the same. In the back of your mind you knew curfew was fast approaching and you detested the fact the two of you would have to wrap up your evening already. It was going so well.

Upon finishing up your last drinks of the evening, Leander stood and helped you from your chair and held your robe while you put it back on, his chivalry making you blush. He paid the bar tab and held the door for you as you started the walk back to the castle.

Rather than offering you his arm, he took your hand, lacing his fingers between yours as you strode side by side through Hogsmeade. The air had gotten cooler and the two of you kept up a brisk pace to keep warm, walking closely only doing so much in that regard.

Curfew be damned, Leander was set on walking you back to your common room once back inside the castle, and you were not going to deny him, if he so wanted to. The clock struck 10 as you were standing together outside of your common room entry, your hands still in his as he stood in front of you.

“I really enjoyed our date.” He said, leaning down and kissing your cheek softly. “I hope you have a good night.”

You kept hold of his hands, with no intention of letting him walk away before feeling his lips with yours. He smiled when you didn’t let go even after he took a half step back. Your eyes plead with him to stay, just a little longer.

“It’s just goodnight, not goodbye.” He reminded you with a little smirk.

“I know, I just…” You closed the gap between you, letting go of his hands and cradling his face instead. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his lips.

You could feel him smile into it, before melting into you completely. He wrapped his arms around your back, holding you close and kissing you back, parting his lips and inviting your tongue to move against his. The kiss was slow and deep, quiet hums of contentedness escaping you both as the heat increased. One of his hands ran up your back and into your hair, tilting your head gently as he kissed you harder. You let out a quiet gasp feeling your bottom lip between his teeth. Kissing him was better than you ever could have imagined, and when it ended, you were left aching for more immediately.

“Goodnight.” He whispered to you once more, your face in his hands, his forehead resting on yours as you looked up at him. He kissed your forehead before leaning back, looking into your eyes, an expression of peace on his face.

“One more thing.” You said.

He nodded, grinning. He loved that you didn’t want him to walk away yet, it was a feeling he hoped to get used to from you, the feeling of being wanted. “What is it?”

“I’d like a second date.”

His eyes dilated, he was clearly thrilled at the idea. There was zero hesitation from him at all. “Oh, absolutely. It would be my pleasure.”

You hugged him close and kissed his cheek before finally telling him “goodnight” in return and parting ways to head into your common room for the night.

[saturdaynightghostclub]

also idk if you still do these 😭 but i just thought of leander working his ass off to take the reader on a trip somewhere he might’ve gone when he was younger perhaps a little something along the lines of that ? in my head i feel like hes obv very happy but maybe sometimes regrets that he can’t afford to share some of the good experiences he’s had in his life w his partner ykwim ? idk im just yappin

Never stop yappin! As I re-read your ask I realized this isn’t totally what you were describing, but hopefully you like it anyway—if not, you know I’m always down to write whatever one-shot your heart desires ♥️

The Heart and Stomach of a Sailor (or, Leander Mason Dreams of Greece)

“Wake up.”

Something soft–his knuckles grazing your cheek, then his lips–and you blink yourself awake in the heavenly recesses of Leander’s fancy duvet. A glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table tells you that it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning, and your stomach flips.

“Oh, god,” you moan around the sleepy lag of your jaw, “don’t do this to me.”

Leander chuckles softly against the shell of your ear, squeezing your shoulder from his perch behind you on the bed. “You sure?” he asks, “What if it’s important?”

“It’s Saturday,” you mumble, turning your face into the pillow so that your voice is blurred around the edges, “how important can it be?”

The bed shakes as Leander lets his body fall dramatically alongside yours. With a theatrical sigh, he says: “No, you’re right. I was going to tell you all the sordid details of our upcoming trip to Greece, but I guess it can wait.”

Hold up. You move your body incrementally, rolling over to face your ridiculous love. “Run that back for me.”

“No, I shouldn’t, you’re much too tired–”

“Leander.”

Another loud sigh. “If you insist,” he says, unable to keep the goofy grin from his face, “I’m taking you to Greece. One week. Don’t give me that look.”

You check yourself, schooling your face into something that might be construed as neutral. Mask set, you raise one anticipatory eyebrow, prompting Leander to continue. “That’s better,” he says. “Here’s the plan. This coming Friday, I’ll pick you up from work and take you directly to the airport. We’ll start in Athens, then move on to Mykonos and Santorini. Eight days–I’ll have you back the following Saturday, you can take Sunday to sleep off your jetlag, and it’s back to work on Monday. Deal?” He’s doing his Accountant Voice, the one that dares you to try negotiating at the risk of personal and financial ruin.

“I have some objections,” you say. Maybe if you match his matter-of-fact tone, he’ll be less likely to shut you down.

“Proceed,” he allows. You don’t like the smug look on his face.

“My boss.”

“Handled. I called her last month.”

“And you told her what, exactly?” you ask, your mouth agape. Your supervisor is a notoriously difficult woman to please.

Leander rolls his eyes in an exaggerated display of mockery. “The truth,” he says, “that I’d planned a romantic getaway and she’d have to spare you for a week, and also that she’d need to keep it a secret because I will not have my grand gesture of love upstaged by a hardass editor I’ve never even met.”

“You didn’t–,”

“No, Professor, I didn’t. I was much nicer about it than that. She’s a romantic, though, you’ll be happy to know–she only fought me for about five minutes before she agreed to let you go.” Pleased with himself, Leander nods, waiting for your next objection.

“Fine,” you say, “where’d you get the money?”

At this, he fully grins. “Didn’t I tell you about that sweet little bonus I got?”

You sit bolt upright, turning to look down at Leander (who naturally doesn’t move an inch from where he’s reclined on the mattress). “You got a merit bonus big enough to book a weeklong trip to Greece, and you chose to spend it on a weeklong trip to Greece?”

“Yep,” he replies, his grin somehow widening, “it was literally the first thing that crossed my mind when Nancy handed me the check.”

“So you just did it?” Your incredulity pitches your voice up an octave in the way you know Leander finds hilarious, but you can’t help it.

He finally sits up, taking your face in his gentle hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know you think I’m stupid, or insane, or some mixture of the two,” he says, his voice softer now, and his lips are on your cheek–“and you’re probably right, because you’re much smarter than I am,”--now your jaw–, “but you’re going to have to trust me on this one, okay?” –your neck, your collarbone, past the neckline of your T-shirt–, “Everything is going to be alright.”

“I believe you,” you say cautiously, “but not because you’re trying to ply me with sex. Got it?”

Leander laughs, soft and warm against your skin. “Look at it this way,” he says, bringing his face back up to train his eyes on yours, “I grew up going to Greece every summer, right? My dad had this timeshare deal with some of his white-collar crime buddies or something, I don’t know. Anyway, those trips were always miserable somehow or another, but I loved the islands–I always thought I’d do it over, do it right. Take someone I love, maybe. So really you’ll be doing me a favor.”

You sigh. You have about six hundred other objections, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle with Leander. He’s the only person on Earth more stubborn than you are, and an undercover idealist to boot. “Are you always so good at keeping secrets?” you ask.

Leander knows he’s won. He kisses you hard before pulling away to answer your question. “No exaggeration, it was literally the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Why do you think I woke you up before eight? I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer, I was actually going to explode. I wasn’t even planning on telling you until Thursday night.” His words are spilling out faster than he can keep up with. His boyish excitement is contagious, and you find yourself grinning (in exasperation, you’d like to think) while he tells you about tidepools and seaside markets, You’ve never been to Greece; really, you’ve hardly left the country aside from a quick stopover in Canada en route to Alaska when you were eight. Time will tell whether the fluttering in your stomach is anxiety or excitement; for the moment, though, Leander’s nudging you back onto the mattress, ignoring the Chicago heat to tangle his limbs with yours, and you can’t bring yourself to sort it out just yet.

***

A little over a week later, you’re halfway through your trip and stumbling giddily into a hotel room in Mykonos with a tipsy Leander draped around you and your cheeks flushed pink. You’re laughing hysterically, but neither of you can remember what was funny in the first place.

“Go…go sit,” Leander gasps, out of breath from his fit of laughter, “sit right there, and I’ll…I’ll get wine. More wine.”

More wine is the last thing either of you needs, but the world is rosy and the man you love is gliding about the room in a beautiful haze, so you sit on the sofa he’s pointing vaguely at and watch him work.

Two high-pours later, Leander collapses beside you (practically on top of you, actually), miraculously keeping both glasses intact without spilling a drop. He hands one to you, and you hold it delicately by the stem, taking a long sip to get it down to a reasonable level.

“Scoot,” he mumbles, nudging you gently to the side only to pull you back in with an arm around your shoulders. He lets his hand fall idly down your arm, fingers stroking up and down your skin in an absent rhythm.

You turn your head to gaze up at him. “Hello,” you say softly, almost shyly, reveling in the way your stomach flips when he looks down at you.

“Hello, my love,” Leander murmurs, his shy smile mirroring your own. He heaves a sudden, deep sigh and drops his head, letting his forehead rest against your temple.

You laugh softly at his theatrics before you say, “What’s this?”

Leander lets his head fall further, slouching to lean on your shoulder. “I’m feeling so much,” he says softly. His voice is thick with emotion. With the hand that’s not holding your wine glass, you run your fingers through his soft hair. He’s stopped styling it so much since you’ve been here, claiming the salt water will just screw it up anyway.

“Good or bad?” you ask.

“Good,” he murmurs, “just a lot.”

“You wanna tell me about it?” This is your pattern, the two of you. Experience something new, work it out together. Nine times out of ten the “something new” in question is just a completely healthy reaction to something you’ve never experienced in its entirety, but that’s beside the point.

At last, Leander lifts his head. As he often does before he dives into the deep end of a conversation, he kisses you. He breathes you in, red wine on his lips, and you feel yourself melt just a little bit before he pulls away. It’s his way, you think, of letting you know that whatever’s about to be said doesn’t change anything, doesn’t have to be a big deal. Maybe it’s also to ground himself, who knows. He sets his wine glass down and you follow suit. “It’s just weird being back here,” he begins, lifting one of your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles before continuing, “like, earlier this week we walked past this pier, right? Just this rickety old thing, you probably didn’t even look twice at it, but I swear I remember standing at the end of that exact pier when I was fifteen, just waiting for my dad to finish screaming at me so I could jump in the water. I don’t even remember what he was mad about–honestly, I probably wasn’t even paying attention at the time. I just wanted to swim away, and the water was so blue…did you see the water, honey? It looked like sapphires, it was so blue.”

You nod, resisting the urge to kiss him again. Sometimes it’s all you can think to do. “It was beautiful,” you agree.

“Anyway,” Leander says, “we walked past that stupid pier, and I swear for a split-second I felt it again. Like I just wanted to jump in and get as far away from all my problems as I possibly could.”

“And?” you pry, worry creeping into your voice.

“And then I realized I don’t have any problems,” he replies in his matter-of-fact way, “I mean it, look at me. I’m wine-drunk in a hotel in Mykonos. I’ve got a beautiful woman in my arms, and it’s only a matter of time before that beautiful woman becomes my wife. Earlier today, I swam in the ocean. And the best part is that it doesn’t have to end when I get back to Chicago.”

“You sure you want to swim in the Chicago River?”

Leander pokes you gently in the ribs. “You know what I mean. When I was a kid, everything was so high-stakes, you know? Coming to Greece felt like a way to escape my life, and even when I was here I constantly felt like I needed to get away. I have nothing to escape anymore, Professor.”

Now you do kiss him again, just because you can’t contain it any longer. “You had me going there,” you say, breathlessly, as you pull away. “I was really worried for a second.”

“I never want you to worry about me,” he says, so sincerely that your whole body aches for him, “I know I’ve put you through the wringer, my Professor. That’s why we’re here, though. Because I wanted to be the one taking care of you for a change.”

“Leander…”

“I know. Just humor me, okay? I’m drunk, just go with it.”

You sigh. You can’t just go with it, and he knows it. “I wouldn’t be the person I am if not for you,” you say simply, “I’m not even sure I’d be a person at all.”

At that, Leander locks his gaze on your face, and you hold his bright eyes with your own. It’s the same silent battle of wills that the two of you engage in semi-regularly (less frequently lately, but there’s still the occasional bout of insecurity). The tension usually dissipates once you realize you’re essentially arguing about how much you love each other, and if that’s not a perfect depiction of your relationship then you don’t know what is. Now, as usual, he takes a deep breath and relents.

“Never stop giving me shit, okay?”

“I promise.”

It’s a vow you intend to stick to, and you’re sure he wouldn’t have it any other way; he needs you, you know, to rein him in, and you need him if only to have someone around who doesn’t mind being lightly needled every now and then.

Leander stretches his body across the length of the sofa, lanky frame draped over your lap like a cat, and resumes his drunken diatribe about the waters of Greece. For your part, you resolve to ask your boss about a promotion. Maybe next year you can try Italy.

[grandeoatmilklatte]

A Good Night 🍻

Hello and happy Weasley Wednesday once again! This week’s theme was “drunk” so here’s my contribution! Full disclosure - I struggled to complete this one on time and went through multiple drafts of it before I was happy with it. Hopefully you like the finished product! Since I was pressed for time, I am posting this on mobile, so please ignore any formatting issues. I’ll fix them once I’m on a computer!

Also - if you’re waiting for the part 3 of my Ominis x MC series Undying Love, I promise it’s coming later this week!

A Good Night - Garreth Weasley x Slytherin Female MC

Summary - Cliche Slytherin party drunken shenanigans! 2.2k words!

NSFW/18+ Smut! Characters are aged up and consenting adults. There is some drunk sexy time in here, please don’t engage if you’re under 18!

————

MC placed the ladle in the last bowl of punch and placed it on the table before taking a step back and admiring her work. Everything was all set for tonight. Slytherin house was hosting another one of its big parties. The parties were usually exclusively for those in the Slytherin house, but since MC had taken over the role of house party planner in her 7th year, she was allowed to invite a select few students from other houses to the party. She had decided to invite her crush, Garreth Weasley, and his best friend Leander, who were Gryffindors. There was always a silly little rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor house, but MC didn’t care. She had a crush on Garreth since their 5th year, but was always too afraid to tell him how she felt. Now that she was in her 7th year and had grown some confidence in two years, she was hoping inviting Garreth to this first party of the school year would be her opportunity to tell him how she felt.

“Wow. You outdid yourself, MC! This is going to be one hell of a party! I can’t believe you invited Weasley and Prewitt, though. I still can’t believe you even have a crush on Weasley. Yuck!” Sebastian said as he walked into the common room checking out your work.

“Oh shut it Sallow! You don’t see me picking on you for your feelings for Ominis do you?!” There was a bite to MC’s voice, but she was mostly just messing with her friend. Sebastian looked around quickly, ensuring that no one was around to hear her say that. “No!” Sebastian whispered angrily. “And could you please not be so loud?! You’re not the only one scared to admit your feelings for your crush, you know!”

“Well maybe you will tonight! I know I’m hoping to. And if anything, there’s always this liquid courage to help us with that!” MC tilted her head towards the underside of the tables, where numerous kegs of firewhiskey were waiting to be opened up. “Alright, I need to go change before everyone starts showing up! See you in a few!” MC shouted as she dashed up the stairs to her dorm room.

—

“Okay so, which one of these makes me smell more desirable?!” Garreth said as he aggressively waved two cologne bottles in Leander’s face.

“Mate! I’m probably not the best person to ask that to! Just go with either. I’m pretty certain MC likes you back. She’ll like you regardless of your cologne. I mean, she did invite us to a Slytherin party, you know, the ones NO ONE from Gryffindor EVER gets invited to. She’s the most popular girl in school, she could have invited anyone from any of the other houses but she invited you. I know I only got invited as your plus one, but you were the main invite. That has to mean she fancies you. There’s no way she doesn’t!”

Garreth sighed, wanting to believe his friend, but having a hard time believing that MC, the most popular girl in school, as Leander had put it, had invited him to her party. Of course, MC and Garreth were friends, and she could have totally invited him as a friend, but to Leander’s point, she could have invited anyone, but she didn’t, she invited him. He had loved her since 5th year; she was so willing to get in trouble for him and steal that fwooper feather from Professor Sharp’s office for him. But he always thought she was too good for him, assuming that Sallow or any of the other Slytherin boys would have stolen her heart already, but none of them ever did. Garreth never thought for a second that she was holding on to her heart for the likes of Garreth Weasley, but little did he know how correct that was.

“I don’t know, mate. What if she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t want to make a fool out of myself!”

“Garreth, you make a fool out of yourself daily in class, and she loves it. It’s going to be fine!”

Garreth sighed once more and made a quick decision on the cologne, spritzing himself, and giving himself another glance over in the mirror. “Alright! Let’s do this!”

—

The Slytherin common room was loud, dark, and hot, the party in full force. Tons of students present, getting drunk and dancing the night away. MC made her way through the crowds of people, eager to find Garreth. She hadn’t seen him yet, and was beginning to worry he didn’t show. She did find Sebastian however, he was on one of the couches, drink in hand, him and Ominis looking very cozy together. A smile formed on her face. She would consider this night a win if even one of them got lucky tonight. MC made her way over to the couch.

“You boys look like you’re having a good time!” She shouted in a suggestive tone. She hadn’t noticed this from a distance, but when she sat on the couch she noticed Sebastian and Ominis were holding hands. Ominis turned to her, way more smiley than he usually ever was. “It’s too loud in here!” He yelled. “But Sebastian was saying maybe we should head back up to the dorm, go somewhere quieter, weren’t you, love?” MC looked at Sebastian in shock, and he returned her look with a smile and a wink. “Yes Ominis, we should head up there now!” The pair stood up, Sebastian taking Ominis’s hand.

MC stood up too, leaning in and whispering “Good luck!” In Sebastian’s ear. Sebastian repeated the action. “You too, by the way, he’s over there by the snacks, go get ‘em!” MC turned to see Garreth, turned back to Sebastian to flash him a smile before she quickly walked over to the snack table.

—

“Garreth relax! I see her now. She’s right over-oh shit she’s coming over here!” Leander explained, trying to calm down his friend who appeared to be having a nervous breakdown fueled by his drunkenness. He had gotten extremely nervous from the moment he walked into the party, and had been chugging shots of firewhiskey to calm his nerves. Four shots in though and it hadn’t worked, now he was nervous AND drunk.

“Shit!” Garreth shouted as he sloppily shoved the remainder of the pumpkin pasty he had been eating into his mouth, swallowing as quickly as he could to not look embarrassing in front of MC.

“Hey you two!” MC exclaimed when she approached. “Enjoying the party?”

“Great! Yes. Wow. You look…wow!” Garreth slurred out as he looked MC over. MC noticed his eyes, they were a beautiful shade emerald green, as they usually were, but this time they were a little glassy, indicating his drunken state. Even so, she loved getting lost in his eyes, and kept her stare for a few seconds before Garreth wrapped his arms around her waist and aggressively pulled her into him, almost knocking her over in the process.

“Has anyone ever told you…hiccup…that you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen?” MC giggled at Garreth’s words and his hiccups, them being the cutest, most high pitched hiccups she had ever heard. She knew he was a bit drunk, but she still couldn’t help but melt at his words.

“I think…hiccup…I think I might be…in love with you? No no I…I am! And I know I’m…a liiiiittle drunk. But! I know that I love you so so much! But not as a friend! As a more than…friend! Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

MC was taken aback by the confession, her jaw dropping slightly. She looked up at Leander, who was watching this entire interaction, with a silent question on her face. Leander nodded his head, “I know he’s a little drunk but, yes, it’s true.” MC’s eyes came back to Garreth, his hands still on her waist and his eyes glued to her, the most loving look in his eyes. She decided it was now or never, and wrapped her arms around Garreth’s head, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss. They kissed for a few seconds before MC pulled away.

“Did you see that?! She hiccup kissed me!” Garreth asked as he turned around back to Leander. Leander just laughed, grabbed himself a drink and looked at MC. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then! Have a good night you two!” He then gave MC a wink and left. MC turned back to Garreth, his hands still glued to her waist. “Well, tonight is gonna be fun!”

—

The pair crashed through the door of the empty Slytherin dungeon’s girl’s bathroom, refusing to break the furious kiss they were in as they stumbled in. Garreth pushed MC up against the door, his hands still not having left her waist since he first put them there 20 minutes ago. They had stayed at the party to continue drinking, but had now grown tired of the party, eager to find a place to be alone.

Garreth was making a desperate attempt to pick MC up in his arms, which normally he could have probably done, but in his drunken state, not so much. MC laughed against Garreth’s lips. “My arms don’t work!” He slurred out laughing, which made MC laugh harder. She pushed against the door and pushed him into one of the sinks to continue kissing him, but he slipped a little when he made contact with the sink. He looked down at the sink, which was a previously broken, non functioning sink.

“Ooooh. I broke the sink! My aunt is going to be so mad at meee!”

“Sweetie, it was already broken. It’s been broken for a while.” MC laughed.

“Oh…why is there a little snake on it? Hi snake! Does it have a name?”

“I don’t know. Now get over here!”

MC crashed her lips into Garreth again, resuming their make out session. After a few minutes, Garreth had managed to flip their position, so that she was the one up against the sink. It was easier to pick her up this time, as Garreth sat MC on the ledge of the broken sink.

His lips moved down to her neck as Garreth began to run his hands up her thigh. His hands trailing up her skirt as he continued his assault on her neck. She couldn’t wait to proudly show off the love marks that would surely be present the next day. She then let out a gasp as she felt Garreth’s hand reach her underwear, already damp from the evening’s activities so far.

“Oh baby! You’re already so wet for me!” Garreth groaned out as he slipped his fingers under the waistband and through her folds. He began to sloppily rub circles into her, MC letting out a harsh moan in response.

She didn’t care one bit who heard her, the alcohol in her system dissolving any inhibitions or reservations she had. Garreth out a moan as well, reveling in the feeling of MC’s wetness that he was responsible for. He then dipped two fingers into her, MC letting out a sinful groan that likely could be heard from outside.

Garreth wasn’t gentle about it, harshly pumping his fingers in and out of her. She spread her legs further and lifted her skirt higher, giving Garreth more access to her. The sink was not a comfortable seat, but that was the last thing on her mind as she crawled closer and closer to an orgasm.

“You feel so good, darling! So tight. So perfect. If this is how your tight hole feels around my fingers I can’t wait to feel you around my cock!” Garreth growled out.

MC arched her back and cried out as her release hit from Garreth’s words. As her body spazzed from her release, she seemed to forget she was on a sink, arching her back in such a way that she slid off the sink and onto the floor, Garreth being far too drunk and horny to catch her in time.

“Oh shit! Darling are you alright?!”

Her ass hit the cold floor hard. She winced for a moment but then began to laugh. “Maybe the edge of the sink wasn’t the best choice. C’mon, let’s head to my bedroom in the Room of Requirement where we can have some fun on a soft surface!”

The pair stumbled out of the bathroom hand and hand, and made a very drunk trek over to the 7th floor of the astronomy tower.

—

When Garreth never returned to their dorm room last night, Leander rejoiced, knowing the night likely ended well. He knew him and MC were likely in the Room, MC having shown it to them both last term. On the way there, he ran into Sebastian, who was looking for MC himself. He was sporting several dark patches on his neck, which Leander couldn’t help but point out.

“Someone had a good night!”

“That I did.” He chuckled. “But it seems like our friends had a better night.” Sebastian replied.

They entered the Room to find them both still in bed wrapped in the covers, their clothes scattered across the floor. MC was sitting up rubbing Garreth’s back as he violently puked in a wastebasket he was hugging. She looked up at her friends with an exasperated look on her face before bursting into laughter.

It had been a good night indeed, and MC was looking forward to having more (less drunk) good nights with Garreth.

—————

[fanartandfanfiction]

I wrote another chapter featuring my animagus character

Aesop Sharp was finishing up some work in his classroom when Garreth Weasley came running in. 

“Can I help you, Mr. Weasley?” 

Garreth looked anxious. “Maybe. It’s Sophia. I can’t find her.”

“What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“Ok, well, Professor Black confiscated a bunch of stuff from me and Sophia was mad about it so she was going to try to get it back. That was this morning.”

“Am I correct in assuming she was doing this as a cat?”

“Probably. I don’t know. But I don’t know what else to do, and you and Prewett are the only ones who know. Prewett is asking around but we’ve had no luck so far.”

“Once we recover Sophia, we’re all going to be having a long conversation.” Sharp glared. 

Sophia hated the headmaster. She was muggleborn, trash in his eyes, and he had no problems expressing that. Garreth had a box of various ingredients he’d gathered, and Sophia was walking with him back to the Gryffindor common room when Professor Black stopped them. He’d said Garreth got into enough mischief as it was, he didn’t need to lower his reputation by dating her and messing around with potions. He confiscated the box and Sophia was furious. 

“I’m getting those back.” Sophia said quietly. 

“It’s fine, Soph. I can get more, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’ll be back later.” She dashed into a nearby room and came out in her cat form, a fluffy white persian. She ran down the hall towards Professor Black, who was headed back to his office. She waited for the door to swing open and she dove inside. 

“What are you doing here? Go on, shoo.” Black had tried to boot her out, but it was clear she wasn’t going, he sighed. “Too many damn cats in this castle.” He grumbled as he carried the box up the stairs. He set the box on his desk and looked at her. “Well you’re not your average castle cat, are you?” He squatted down and stroked her head. With a small gasp, he grinned. “You’re a persian! Rare and expensive. The perfect pet for someone with such refined taste as myself.” He scooped her up and she let out a yowl of protest. “Oh hush now. I’ll set up a space for you right here in my office so everyone can see you when they come in!”

Sophia was humiliated. He’d tied a green ribbon in a big bow around her neck. At least he’d conjured her a fluffy cat bed, since she was clearly trapped for a while. 

“I think we should go for a walk so that everyone can see my magnificent new pet.” He grinned. Such a pompous asshole. He’d conjured a collar with a little bell (in case the bow wasn’t embarrassing enough) and a leash. She’d tried digging her claws into the ground in protest, but there was no purchase on the hardwood floor. And now she was trotting through the halls on a leash.

“Excuse me, have you seen a cat?” Luckily she had excellent hearing in her cat form and heard Leander’s voice. 

“Are you kidding? This castle is full of cats.” A voice replied.

“No, this is a big fluffy white one with a scrunched up face.”

“Haven’t seen it.”

She let out a loud meow and yanked the leash in Prewett’s direction. Luckily he heard her and looked up. She saw him suppress a laugh and she glared at him. 

“Excuse me, headmaster!”

“What is it, Mr. Prewett?”

“That’s a lovely cat, where did you get her?”

“I bought her from a breeder, very expensive you know. Cats of this quality are rare.”

His face fell. “Oh. You see, I’m looking for a cat just like that, Garreth has one and she ran out.”

“Well I can assure you this isn’t your cat. I recently purchased Clarice.”

“MEOOOOOW!” She let out a loud wail in Prewett’s direction. 

“Is it alright if I pet her?”

“I suppose so.” Black responded. Prewett squatted down and looked into her eyes. She widened them and placed her paw on his hand. 

“Shit.” He said quietly. 

“What was that, Mr. Prewett?”

“Oh, I asked if she could sit. I didn’t know if she was trained.”

“I’m sure she’ll be trained soon enough, she’s very intelligent. Nearly opened the door to my office by herself.”

“I bet she did.” Prewett gave her head a reassuring pat. “Well, thank you for letting me pet her, goodbye headmaster.”

She let out a wail as he walked away and he turned back and raised his eyebrows at her.

“Come along, Clarice. Let’s show you off.”

Prewett took off at a run towards the dungeons as soon as Black was out of sight. He saw Garreth speaking with Professor Sharp and ran into the classroom. “Black has her.”

“Damn, she got caught?” Garreth asked. 

“Well, kind of.”

Aesop was silently cursing Sophia as he searched for Black. He had no idea how he was going to get her away from him. 

He finally saw Black up ahead with Sophia on a leash. 

“Headmaster? A word?” 

Sophia looked up and immediately tried to rush towards him, choking at the end of her leash. “Calm down, Clarice, that’s no way for a lady to behave.” Black chastised her. “What can I do for you, Aesop? I’m just taking my new cat for a walk. She cost me a pretty penny, but she was worth it. Persians are incredibly rare, you know.”

“Oh I know, I have one myself. They have a penchant for getting into trouble.” He glared down at her.

“I’m sure Clarice is different, she comes from one of the most exclusive breeders in London.” Boy, the man could lie out his ass.

“I see. Would you mind if I held her? I’ve such a soft spot for cats.”

“I suppose.” Sophia was stretching her leash as far as possible to reach him. He picked her up and she scrambled up onto his shoulder and dug her claws in.

“Ow.” He said quietly. She readjusted, but still clung to him.

“She must sense that you’re a cat person! She seems quite fond of you.”

Sophia gave a purr in response and nuzzled her head against him, and he glared. “Yes, she’s a sweet little kitty, isn’t she?” Sharp kissed the top of her head, making her wrinkle her nose, until she heard him whisper “When I let you go, attack him and make a run for it.” He patted her head once more. “Well, I suppose I’ll return her to you, otherwise I’d stay here all day petting her.” Professor Sharp set her down and she charged at Professor Black with a screeching yowl. He shrieked as she sunk her claws and teeth into his leg. He attempted to shake her off but she shredded the legs of his trousers and continued biting. 

“Get OFF!” He kicked her with his other foot and sent her sprawling. He’d kicked her so hard she was pretty sure he’d cracked a rib. She wasted no time getting up and making a run for it. 

“Headmaster, are you alright?!” Aesop asked. 

“NO! I was just mauled by that wild creature!” 

“Here, I have a wiggenweld with me. Take it, but I’d still recommend going to the infirmary. Cats can carry rabies, you know.”

Black gulped down the potion and wiped his mouth. “Find the cat. I don’t care what you do with it, just don’t let it back in this school.”

“Yes sir. I’ll see if I can locate her.”

When he made it back to his classroom, Sophia was there clutching her side and groaning. Garreth and Leander were supporting her weight. 

“Up on the table. Let me see.” They helped her up onto a nearby table and she lifted her shirt. Prewett turned tomato red and looked away. 

“He easily fractured some ribs. And I imagine transforming with an injury worsened it. Hang on.” He walked over to his shelf of potions he kept stocked. He was fuming. There was no reason for Black to have kicked her that hard. He heard the crack. He brought back several vials and set them on the table. “Can you sit up?”

“I don’t know.” She said through tears.

“You’re going to have to try, I don’t want to risk you choking on a potion.”

“It’s alright, Sophia, we’ll help you. Come on prewett, hold onto her other side.” She let out a wail of pain as they sat her up.  “You’ll be ok. You’re going to be ok.” Garreth was whispering quietly to her and stroking her hair. Prewett looked unsure of what to do so he grabbed her hand. 

“Just give my hand a squeeze when it hurts, alright? OW! OW!”

“Alright, I’ve got you a wiggenweld, a pain draught, and a skele-gro. Take the wiggenweld and pain draught first.”

She downed them and looked slightly less miserable. “This one is going to be absolutely disgusting, but you need it to heal your ribs.” He handed her the skele-gro and she uncorked it and made a face. “I know. But you need to drink it.” She downed it as quickly as she could and tried to repress a gag. Garreth was stroking her back and Prewett was still holding onto her hand. 

“You’ll need to be still for a bit while the potion works. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Prewett, you’re more than welcome to stay, but it’ll be a few hours.”

“You can go, Prewett. I’ll stay with her.” Garreth said.

“Alright. I’m glad you’re ok, Sophia.” He gave her hand one last squeeze and left. 

“Hey Garreth?”

“Yes, love?”

“It’s chilly down here, can you go get my favorite sweater?”

“You mean MY sweater?” He grinned. “Of course. Be right back.”

As soon as he was out of the room, tears started streaming down her face. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure what you’re apologizing to me for.”

“You had to come rescue me because I did something stupid.”

“I’m your professor. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

She chuckled. “I think chasing down your animagus student who’s trapped with a pretentious snob is a bit out of your job description. You didn’t have to help me, but you did. I appreciate it.” She reached up and felt the collar. “Can you help me get this off? And the stupid bow?”

Sharp smirked as he helped her remove the collar. “At least I didn’t put a bow on you.” 

“You totally would have.” She smirked in response. “Only the best for your little girl.” She teased.

“Oh, shut it. That was equally embarrassing for both of us.”

“To be fair, you were really nice to me as a cat.”

“Thank you for not tearing me to shreds like you did Black.” He smiled. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you, but I also was NOT about to sleep in your bed. It’s a good thing Garreth arrived when he did.”

“Oh my god, I forgot about that. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t know it was me.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “By the way, attacking Black was the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done.”

“You probably shouldn’t tell me that. He’s your headmaster and my employer.”

“Come on, it’s after hours, there’s no one else here. He was shrieking like a little girl. You have to admit it was funny.”

Sharp relented and let out a snort of laughter. “It was hysterical, watching him jump around on one foot and screaming, after he’d just bragged about how well behaved you were.”

Sophia stifled a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“It’s the pain draught. You may rest if you like.” 

He watched her sort of curl on her side and she scrunched up her nose as it itched her. He could absolutely see why her animagus was a persian cat. 

“‘Alright, Sharp said you have to stay with us while you finish recovering.” Garreth packed her back in her cat form while she dozed. He opened his dorm room and Prewett looked up.

 “We have a cat again?”

“For now. Just until she finishes recovering.” He set her down on his bed and stretched. 

“I know it’s Sophia, but she’s such a cute cat.” Prewett smiled. 

“Yeah, it’s probably the only time she’s not bickering with you.” Garreth crawled into his bed and pulled Sophia over to him.

“Is it weird that your girlfriend is a cat?”

“Only a little. I mean, most of the time, she’s not a cat.” He yawned and stretched again. “Thanks for helping me find her.”

“No problem. Do you think she’ll let me pet her while she’s a cat? Is that weird? Like, I know she’s Sophia but she’s so cute.”

“This is the only circumstance in which I will say, yes Prewett, you may pet my girlfriend.”

Find the rest of the story here:

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

i’ve done a lot of whining lately because summer was unusually rough, so i figure i ought to share when there are wins, too. :) today i survived a healthcare phone call that i originally had to put off when covid stole my voice then rescheduled several more times because i’ve been so frustrated lately in trying to deal with doctors etc that i didn’t feel ready for more of that.

but it went really well!! my caseworker, whose name is lupe, which reminds me of odaat in a comforting way, clarified what i need to do for a second opinion in any situation like the one i’m in now where my doctor’s response to my worsening symptoms was ‘it’ll get better on its own just wait.’ (she was in fact overly helpful and kept explaining how easily i can choose a new doctor if i want--i don’t want to, lol, and already knew how, but i appreciate her thoroughness.) 

i’m supposed to get a call this week from someone who will set me up with a therapist, which is a little scary because i’ve never tried to really have a therapist or engage in therapy. growing up i was everyone else’s therapist, reading adult self-help and psychology books for fun in junior high and letting my friends bring their problems my way, so i always felt like i could see inside the process too much when i did interact with therapists. but i think i’m finally in a place where it could help me and i could let it. so we’ll see. 

that therapist will also be the person who can discuss my ARFID symptoms with me. my last screening for that went badly, partly because i panic with strangers and that led to me answering questions inaccurately and not realizing it until leander pointed it out later--and partly because the questions they asked me were for unrelated eating disorders and not as relevant to why i was seeking help, so when the experts consulted and said i didn’t need any help, it wasn’t a total surprise.

my caseworker will be telling them that i need to meet in person, so i can feel less rushed and ask for clarification of questions, rather than panicking like i did before and saying stuff that wasn’t even true. she’ll also tell them that i need my best friend with me for help with anxiety and memory support and self-advocating, which i’m deeply grateful for, because until my video screening the last time i didn’t realize how hard it is for me to talk about my eating habits without covering. 

surprisingly i spent my whole life not knowing it could be a disorder but that didn’t stop me from internalizing the shame and trying to hide and minimize my problems in situations where i expect to be judged. and i have experienced crying autistic meltdowns in more than one medical office over the years, so healthcare professionals are definitely an area where i anticipate judgement. fingers crosses my future efforts are less traumatic and more effective, but either way i’ve regained some hope about the value of trying. 

it’s so much easier to just not make the appointments and not follow up on things and tell myself that as long as i’m medicated and alive that’s enough, but i deserve more. and i hit a bad place this summer that means it’s time to move beyond easy, because i’ll never get what i want out of life if i’m not healthy enough to work towards it, which has kept me from even deciding what i want. for multiple issues, today was a good first step.

[marcusoseman99]

Songs of the isle pt 34

Apollo: Keep moving..... stop being a bitch Reegan and you need this work.

*Apollo stops walking and falls to his knees with his forehead to the ground*

Apollo: I could just take the hand out from Hermes- dont think like that fuck.

*Apollo punches himself in the stomach then starts to stand but falls to the ground*

Voices: Pffft great acting get up- NOW

Apollo: *Whispering* Shut up.

Voices: Come on you look fine just get up...... Gods ae you even trying

Apollo: *screaming* SHUT UP

*Apollo forces himself up barley standing him throws his claws around hoping that somehow, he hits one of the voices till he stops his gaze going blank*

Apollo: i just need sleep just for a bit i-i am so.....tired.

*Apollo goes into the fetal position and with the voices getting louder but Apollo doesn’t move not looking at anything other than the ground.

Hel watches Apollo out of sight smiling at him the smile however slowly changes to pure curiosity and surprise as the ground around Apollo starts to produce the same black substance as the wailing beast *

Voices: That’s right get out of their way you just make things difficult.

*The more the voices speak the more Apollo is getting covered in the inky substance*

Hel: Well this is certainly interesting maybe I could get something more substantially out of this moral mutt.

*Hel starts to walk away, and she does the voices fade away the black substance dissipates as it does Apollo stands up*

Hel is waiting outside of the forest with her shit eating grin while Apollo starts to walk pass her Apollo walks toward the Horse that is now right inf front of him*

Apollo: Are you going to let me go or am I dead.

Hel: You are free to go.

Apollo: What’s the catch?

Hel: I have learned everything there is to know about you and you are a deeply flawed man but I’d prefer to see you suffer further in the mortal realm.

Apollo: That’s it?

Hel: Well one condition you let me touch your forehead.

*Apollo and Hel made eye contact *

Apollo: This feels like it’s going in a weird direction and you are a bit to old even for me.

Hel: I would never let any pitiful imp like you near me in such a manner.

Apollo: Glad we are on the same page then.

Hel: Now..... do you agree?

Apollo: I don’t have a choice, do I?

Hel: No its more of a courtesy.

Apollo: Fuck it then.

*They both walk toward one another then Hel places her icy fingers on Apollos face with her thumbs resting on his forehead*

Apollo: Weirdly soothing i mean she has cold ass hands and tight grip but after today like this I’ll take it.  

*The scene cuts to Vick running through the woods till he is on the outskirts of the clearing*

Vick: *heavy breathing* I…need…to…stop Vaping.

*As Vick Is about to enter the clearing but stops*

Vick: Is it so bad if they get caught they did murder someone and save my life a couple of times.... fuck.

*Vick starts to pace around between the clearing and the woods*

Vick: AHHHH, this is impossible.

*Vick starts to grab at his head and continues to pace around before coming to a complete stop*

Vick: That’s it I am just getting intel yknow to make sure that they aren’t dangerous cuz I can always tell Leander if I am unsure.

Vick: YEEEAH

*Vick walks up to where invisible field starts*

Vick: Hey Reegan....... are you home?

*The field falls, and Reegan is waiting at the very edge of the field smiling Vick smiles back*

Reegan: Hey how is everything?

Vick: Not bad also we need to get rid of the body.

Reegan: Hmm straight to the point we can just wait for Apollo to get back and I’ll make him do it.

Vick: NO we need to do it now like right now.

Reegan: Ok why?

Vick: Well….

Vick: OK I can’t tell him about Leander he might trust me but Apollo will kill me.

Vick: I just want *sigh* I know he was fucked up but I doesn’t sit right with me that he isn’t buried yknow.

Vick: I wanted to lie but that’s the truth even if I don’t want Leander to know..... having Stefans body like that isn’t right and I want to help him even if I couldn’t help while he was alive.

Reegan: Fair enough that’s noble to be honest

Vick: Yeah well can you given me a hand with his *gulp* body.

*Reegan looks at Vick Blanky*

[saratogaroadwrites]

For King and Country (61/122)

For King and Country | saratogaroad rating: T total wordcount:  280,466 characters: Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Roland Crane, Aranella, Batu, Tani, Lofty, Leander Aristidies, Bracken Meadows relationships: Roland Crane & Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Aranella & Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Roland Crane & Aranella, Batu & Tani, Batu & Evan, Tani & Evan, Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum & Lofty, Rolander other tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Place Slowly Becomes Home People Slowly Become Family, Found Family, For Want of A Nail warnings: none

Pulled from his world by mysterious powers, former president Roland Crane finds himself caught in the middle of a coup meant to take the life of the young King Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum. Joining forces with Aranella, the pair of them set out to aid Evan in making his dream of a kingdom where everyone can live happily ever after a reality.

But the road to peace is a long and treacherous one and there is no promise of success in a world where darkness spreads ever thicker with each passing day. If they are to stand a chance, they must stand together, for king and for country.

(A retelling.)

=

“You’ve been working on this…for me?” Tani’s voice was thin and quiet as she dragged a gentle finger down the silken skirts spread across the bed. “Really?”

“Really.” Aranella laid her hands on the girl’s shoulders and smiled fondly. “Can you really see Evan in this shade?”

Tani burst out giggling, “No! No, blue’s much more his color.” Sobering up, she shook her head. “But this is so beautiful…I’ll just wreck it in a night…”

“I highly doubt that,” Aranella said, “Silk is hardly that fragile. Besides—” She leaned over, shaking out a wrinkle in the skirt. “This is for fancy dancing, not fighting Wyverns and Windwyrms.”

Tani turned her head. In the warm glow of the lanterns, the red of her hair was nearly copper. “Fancy dancing. Me?”

“Yes, you.” Aranella said, reaching around to pick up the dress. The product of three months of work, she was glad to see she’d been right about Tani’s measurements after all. Just a few minor adjustments and it would be done. “All of us, really. I still need to get your father’s measurements.”

“Oh, Gods,” Tani threw her head back, “Good luck with that. The day he wears anything fancy is the day Evermore swears allegiance to Dell!”

Which would never happen, Aranella thought. Shaking her head, she tapped Tani over towards the full mirror mounted to the closet door. The study had been meant for Evan to live in while aboard the Eternity, full of plush carpets and deep, rich colors meant for a King…but he had taken one look at it and run for the hold without looking back. It had sat empty for a time, but was now serving as a dressing room.

Just as well. She couldn’t imagine trying to do this in the hold.

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Aranella finally said, pointedly not saying anything as Tani snickered. She tugged the girl’s arms upright until she could slip the dress over her head. Silk shimmied down the rougher cotton and linen of her customary green dress, fitting a bit snugly to her torso. Pulling her supplies from her arms band, Aranella got to work. “I have my ways of persuading people.”

“Yeah, by terrifying the boots off of ‘em.” Tani retorted. She did an admirable job of holding still as Aranella marked a few spots she’d need to adjust, running her fingers over the golden embroidery. “Would you really sew him something, too?”

“He’s Minister of Defense,” Aranella said, “He needs at least one suit.” She pulled a face. Batu would be simple enough once she had his measurements. Green and white, maybe a bit of gold, but… “Between the two of us, I’m certain we could convince him.”

Tani giggled. She shifted her weight, sending the skirt shimmying. The silk shone in the golden light as she dragged her fingers down towards her knees.

“This isn’t a dress for fighting in, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, Spirits,” Aranella laughed, “No! I’ll gladly make you one of those when we get home, but this is a party dress!” She adjusted a pleat, pinned it in place, and reached for her sewing needle to take out an inch around the bodice. Best to leave a bit of room in the torso for one so young. “The idea is to make you look as pretty as a princess, not have you ready to fight off Wyverns and Manticores all night.”

Tani giggled again, holding a hand in front of her mouth. “I’m not sure I qualify as a princess,” she said, “A bit too rough and tumble for that.”

“Far better to be rough and tumble than a damsel in distress,” Aranella said, “I’ve seen too many girls your age cower in corners because they thought it wasn’t “right” for them to fight.” She shook her head. “It may not be meant for it, but it's still far better to rip your dress than become a monster’s dinner.”

“Ha! Like I’d ever end up Wyvern stew after the last time.” Tani looked aside. Aranella’s fingers stilled for a moment, then she shook her head and continued to sew. Tani was better off living in Evermore. That was what mattered now. Tani continued, “I guess I’m just a little…scared, is all. Of showing that I like this kind of stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking pretty dresses,” Aranella said, “It doesn’t make you any less of a fighter to prefer skirts to pants, or pink to blue, or any other such nonsense. Besides—” She stuck a pin a little too violently through a fold, then reached for her scissors. “I’d like to see anyone call you weak no matter what color you’re wearing.”

Tani smiled. “You and Roland really are related,” She said quietly, “He told me the same thing when I braided his hair.” She snorted. “Even though I stuck a flower in it after he said not to.”

So that was why Roland had had a braid in his hair for the trial in Goldpaw! He’d looked good like that. A shame the flower must have fallen off before she’d seen it. Roland seemed the kind of man who could carry such a look well.

“Roland is a wise man most of the time,” Aranella said, though he hadn’t been very wise as of late. Something was bothering him to the point where she’d seen him awake in the wee hours more than a few times since they had left Evermore. Bags had settled in under his eyes, and nothing she or Evan said to him could get him to talk. She was starting to worry. “And he has a point. I’ll have you know I fought off guards in full plate armor wearing that dress you first met me in.”

“Really?!” Tani’s eyes bugged out of her face. “In that thing?!” She glanced down to Aranella’s ankle where the skirt of the dress had ended, “Even though it was almost to the floor?”

“Even though it was that long,” Aranella said. “It actually made things easier.” With one final snip, she cut away the last of the loose folds of fabric. One last quick stitch and…there. Perfect. “There we are. What do you think?”

Taking a long breath, Tani stared at her reflection for a long, silent moment. Aranella waited her out, patiently watching as she felt the folds and twists of fabric, a far cry from her usual day dress, and took in the whole picture in the mirror.

“I look…” she started, her voice choked with an emotion that Aranella couldn’t name. “…I really can look pretty.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Aranella wrapped an arm around Tani’s shoulders. “Of course you can. You do.” She leaned over to look Tani in the eye. “You could be in the messiest servant’s shift in the world and still look beautiful. Do you know why?”

“No?”

“Because you have a kind heart,” Aranella said with a soft smile. “A good heart. That matters so much more than any dress or make up ever would.” When Tani opened her mouth, she shook her head. “They can certainly help, but what truly matters is the sort of person you are. And you,” She smiled a little wider, a little warmer. “Are a truly good person.”

Tani sniffled. “Now I know where Evan gets it,” she gave a watery laugh, then surged forward into Aranella’s waiting arms. “You’re a good person, too, Miss Nella.”

Was she? Sometimes she still wondered, but that was a thought best saved for another time. She rubbed soothing circles in Tani’s back, just holding her steady as she composed herself. After a few minutes, she felt Tani take a breath.

“…Miss Nella?” She asked, “Could I…could I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“…Roland isn’t really from Dell, is he?”

Aranella stiffened immediately. In response, Tani began to pull back; cursing her reaction, Aranella leaned back to hold the girl by the arms. Those clever green eyes stared back at her, certain and resolute.

“Of course he is.” Aranella said, perhaps a bit too sharply. Tani narrowed her eyes as she said, “What makes you think he’s not?”

“He doesn’t talk like you and Evan do, for one thing,” Tani said, tilting her head. “And he doesn’t sound like you do. He sounds really different.”

“His accent, you mean?” Aranella asked, though she knew even before Tani nodded that that was what she meant. It was certainly true; as well spoken as he was, Roland spoke in a much more casual manner than either Aranella or Evan themselves. One could have called it too much time around the rough-and-tumble palace guards and not been wrong, but when added to his very different accent…there was no denying it.

He stuck out like a sore thumb.

Aranella sat back on her heels, trying to think. How could she explain this to Tani without spilling Roland’s secret entirely? The truth seemed so far-fetched that just outright saying it…it wasn’t her story to tell.

“It’s okay if he’s not!” Tani said when the silence dragged on too long, “I’m just wondering why you three are trying to hide it, that’s all.”

Aranella sat back on her heels. Laying her hands on her knees, she shook her head.

“Roland has…been though a lot, Tani,” She said softly, remembering the terrible look that had crossed his face when she had so much as mentioned his Alex, “And his past is his own story to tell. Even Evan and I don’t know everything yet.”

“Really?” Tani cocked her head. “I thought you three were as close as family. Family shouldn’t keep secrets.”

“Sometimes they do,” Aranella replied, “Sometimes it’s easier for people to keep secrets than to talk about something, even with the people they love most.”

“…I guess so.” Tani said, her voice dropping in volume. Aranella looked up, but the girl had turned her eyes away and fisted her hands into the skirt. She reached up, putting a hand on Tani’s shoulder and squeezing. Tani took a breath and then let her hands relax. “Do you think he’ll ever tell us the whole story?”

“I don’t know,” Aranella admitted. The few admissions she had pulled out of him then had cost him. Telling anyone, even her, the whole truth of his past…she wasn’t sure he’d survive that. “Maybe someday, if he feels ready for it.” She tilted her head. “Does this make you feel any differently towards him? Knowing he’s keeping secrets?”

“Pfft, no!” Tani waved a hand through the air, “I wanna know, but…he’s still Roland no matter what, you know?” She reached up and scratched at the back of her head. “Even if he drives us all crazy sometimes.”

Aranella snorted.

“That,” she said as she got to her feet, “is the biggest understatement I’ve heard all year.”

[maewiiweam]

Tʜᴇ Bᴏss

"Izzy, please." Mattheo begged his girlfiend - ex-girlfriend - for the hundreth time. They on the other hand didn't want to listen. She listened the other two times, the other two times he betrayed her trust and made her look like a fool. The other two times he made them believe he regretted his actions and really loved her, and she took him back because, fuck those damn eyes of his.

"Leave me alone, you asshole." Izzy cries at him trying to close her bedroom door on him, yet he is stronger. She still tries to close it by putting her entire weight on the door which helps to some parts. Mostly because Mattheo doesn't want to hurt her by being too violent with the door.

"Please, malishka. I'm sorry. Just let me explain." He tries begging again but to no avail.

"Fuck off, I've listened the past two times. Thrid times a charm Mattheo, you're out." They give the door one more big slam with their entire body weight and manage to fully close it, quickly turning the key in the lock to keep their ex-boyfriend outside. Izzy slid down her door and started quietly sobbing while keeping her head buried in her lap.

Silence occured in the dorm, Mattheo must've left. Izzy stays in their position on the floor until her roommate softly knocks on the door. The brunette jumps off the floor and in lightning speed opens the door and falls into her friend's arm. She continues her sobbing while Mary rubs her back with comforting words.

Never again, Mattheo. Izzy tells herself. Never again.

"How's you morning going, boss?"

"Very pleasant, how's yours going, Rick?"

"Pleasant aswell, thank you for asking boss." He swings through the big crowds of his bar, Église, greeting employees and customers on his way.

"Your drink, boss."

"Thank you, Joshua." He opens his office door and gives his employe a quick smile before entring his office. He lets out a big sigh before going to his table, already seeing a big pile of paper work on there. He sits down and buries his face in his hands. So much paperwork yet the hardest assignment is his best worker. The only reason he currently is in France.

“You asshole...” He whispers to himself before lifting his head to look at his computerscreen. He started doing his work, all the things he normally would, meetings, drug deals, papers for his clubs and bars. Everything a mafia boss does. But his mind was not in this room, hell, it wasn’t even in the same building.

All he could think about was that girl, the girl he met at his friend’s apartment today. 

He thought about her eyes and how they shined, her pretty hair and how it draped over her breasts, her lips and how kissbale they looked in that moment, her thighs and how he would hold them while he-

A loud ringing brought him back, he picks up his phone. Leander written in bold letters shines on his phone. The boss lets out a big sigh before picking up.

“Hey, Lee.” He spoke into his phone, trapping it between his ear and shoulder continuing his work.

“Hey, bud. I just wanted to apologize. You were right I wasn’t in the right state of mind, I fell for that girl and completely forgot the importance of the mission. Not only for myself but also for you and your business...I’m sorry, I’ll do my best to stay away...but you saw her...It’s hard not to want her.” He finishes off with a sigh and shaky breath, anxiety clear in his voice. Fear of messing up the big project they, have been working on for many years now.

“It’s okay...As long as you keep the mission as your first priority.” He smirks as he continues his work. Less competition.

“Of course...to avenge my sister is all I need to do now...Thank you for helping me, brother. Without you I wouldn’t have gotten this far, I won’t dissapoint you.”

“Trust me, Lee, you couldn’t.” After saying their goodbyes they hung up. He couldn’t help but smile at Leander’s reaction. How naive, thankfully. It makes his job of getting all the competition out of the way so much easier, less blood shed and less money spent. Those thoughts make his mind drift to that girl again.

Oh, that girl.

She truly has him around her finger, and he barely even knows anything about her. He doesn‘t need to, she‘s his soulmate. She will have to love him be it with or without force, but again why force? Soulmates are meant to love one another unconditionally no matter the situation.

There is a knock on the door, making the boss look at his watch in thought.

8:27 a.m.

Time for the first meeting on the day, after an audible come in the door opens. He stands up extending his hand for a firm, polite hand shake. As he sits down, talking with his colleague, he notices his name tag on his table wasn’t turned correctly. He takes the little metal piece and turns it around revealing his name to the person sitting in front of him.

Niko Sterling.

[teakmiddleton]

- discord thread with @akbartheolder , @lostboyjamiebevans , and @teakmiddleton

---

WHEN: February 26, 2021; mid-morning. WHERE: A stand of coconut trees near the Leander.

The fog was gross. That was all Teak could think when he saw it out of the porthole in their cabin on the Leander, the thought was reinforced when he and Jamie stepped out onto the deck of the ship, and it grew exponentially as they headed down the gangplank and onto the beach. "This isn't normal," Teak had said, as they listened to people moving around, barely visible. "This is messed up." He'd stooped, undoing the shoelaces from his sneakers (they didn't really need them; the laces were decorative, and not even really great at that), tying the strings together and then handing one end to Jamie. 

"Tie that through a belt loop," Teak instructed, doing the same on his own jeans. "We're gonna see what we can find and I don't want to lose you." A plan he congratulated himself on when they remained together long enough to join up with some people who were frenetically trying to get down some trees, for possible raft-building or something, and Teak only then turned Jamie loose with the order for him to sit in the sand and not move. He could do this. Whatever that light out on the ocean was, it could be the ticket home for the Bevans-Middleton boys, and Teak wasn't about to let that opportunity pass him by.

Jamie did as he was told when Teak offered up his shoelaces, tying them tight through a beltloop, the fog cold and cloying and more frightening than he'd ever thought fog might be - and it was comforting, doing what Teakettle said, handing over the reins of decision making to the brother that had always protected him in the past. When Teak set him free though, ordering him to sit in the sand and not move, Jamie felt himself want to balk. He didn't want to be free yet, not when people were taking down trees and Teak was determined to join them. Not when that tether had been keeping them both safe; keeping them a set, a unit. Jamie didn't want to let that go. 

But Teak was the elder brother, and what he said went, so Jamie sat in the damp sand and tried his best to see through the gloom to keep an eye on his Kettle. Helping in the way of all baby brothers before him, watching carefully and following orders. Keeping Teak in his misty sights so he could be sure that he was still there. That Jamie hadn't lost him in the thick white fog. Counting the minutes until they could be tethered again. Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it together. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. "I'll sit," Jamie said, "-but I don't like it." And then he parked himself like a statue, ready for Teak's next idea.

Emre kept losing his way back to the boat.  He maintained his calm demeanour, even if internally he was roiling with frustration and impatience.  The fog was unresponsive to water-magic, that Emre had figured out.  Not that he was any good at it himself, but because other more experienced water-magic users had failed. But he still toted supplies that could be useful for the accelerated boat-building, still hoping in vain to find his bearing and meet up with the rest of the volunteers.  Tamyra must be thrilled, knowing that she was right (maybe) and that so many people were now eager to jump on her 30-year mission. Emre wished at least that, like London fog, this fog would be enjoyable to stroll in.  But the sense of electric urgency and confusion in the air made Emre antsy as well.  Glancing around but trying to walk straight, eyes peeled for any sort of movement.

And he got it.  A flurry of people jogged past him, seemingly out of nowhere.  Emre froze - he'd found some boat-volunteers, but they were now talking about the ship getting closer (maybe) and voices on the water (maybe) and a life-raft (maybe).

"Oi," Emre said faintly to the last one running by, but they didn't hear him.  Instead, Emre kept walking, and made contact with something solid.  A person, sitting in the sand.  Emre couldn't quite make them out.  "Alright?" he asked, for lack of anything else to say.  "Know where the boat's being built, mate? Been trying to get back to it for ages."

"Ooof," Jamie wheezed, all the air knocked out of him at the sudden contact, and then a disembodied voice - a vaguely familiar voice - asked him if he were alright. "Yeah," Jamie said, realising that he was, "Yeah, mate, I'm fine. I'm the one sitting in the way, aren't I?" Jamie stood up for a moment, still staying rooted to his spot, just trying to see the man he was talking to, "The boat I'm not so sure of, but those people over there," he gestured at the noise of work, "are trying to get some trees down for a raft. I'm just meant to stay here and keep out of trouble. My brother will have my head, otherwise."

Helping to chop down the tree was taking a lot of concentration -- for some reason, the rest of the people making the attempt were sticking to their crappy little tools for doing it, and Teak was embroiled in trying to get them to let him use his firepower for it -- but he kept making time to check in on Jamie, periodically. Darting forward to look for the little teddybear-lump in the sand and make sure it was still there. "Won't be long," Teak called to him at one point, although that was a lie. These people were taking for-ever. 

He was about to get back to it when he thought he heard Jamie start talking (the words were hard to make out, but the lilt of a London accent made it through)-- --and then realized it wasn't Jamie at all. It was Emre. Talking to his baby brother. Watch what you're doing! one of the other idiots squalled at him, and Teak tore his attention away from Jamie to slap his hands against the trunk and out of the way of the swinging axe that was as dull as the guy wielding it. Everyone else seemed to have run off somewhere, leaving only this one guy and him. "Yeah, yeah, if you just let me burn some of the trunk--" Teak began, but the guy wasn't listening, and he was. To see what Jamie and Emre were talking about.

Emre didn't need the other bloke to stand, but he figured it was only polite or whatever.  Especially in the fog, when at the moment it just looked like a pale shadow below him.  Emre could make out his face now - square and rounded at the same time, and rather familiar - but Emre wasn't in the mood to figure out from where, since really everyone around the island was 'vaguely familiar'; it was the nature of a small island and strangers. "They've all run off, innit.  Back to the beach I think," Emre said with a huff as he looked over in that direction (he guessed it was the right direction).  "Right, suppose I should follow them then.  The boat - raft, whatever - is on the beach like..." 

But Emre's decision was interrupted by an awful creaking noise - one loud enough to puncture even through the sound-muffling fog.  Without the ability to see what was bloody going on, Emre could only look in the direction, dropping his dragged supplies and bracing for...something.  A monster?  A jinn?  It could be anything. And it was.  At the last minute,  Emre realized the thing charging down towards them were the fronds of a tree - the coconut tree the other fellow just mentioned.

"Fuck--!" Emre yelped and shoved the other man forward, diving along with him.  The other was sturdy as hell but somehow Emre got him to move, as the tree crashed onto them.  Emre slid off the other man, face colliding so hard into the sand that stars spun, dazed.  He groaned, and tried to crawl up - but his leg felt pinned.  "Fucking hell..."

Before Jamie even knew what was happening he was being pushed forward, and though his body resisted at first - he went down with only the strongest of efforts - he heard the crack, and allowed himself to get shoved down into the sand again; this time under the stranger and the tree, once again the wind knocked out of him. But when he sat up - with a little extra effort than it might normally have taken - he shimmied out from under his saviour and tugged his arm free, only to realise that the other man didn't have the same luxury. He was pinned under the coconut tree. And if the tree had fallen- 

 "Ketts!" Jamie hollered, "Ketts, where are you?! There's a bloke over here trapped under the tree! He saved my life. KETTLE, I NEED YOU!! Come help me!" Jamie got down in the sand again, murmuring to himself, 'Oh god, please let Teak be alright. Please, I'll do anything,' before turning his attentions to Emre. "Are you hurt?" he asked, "Does your leg feel broken or just stuck? What can I do?" "KETTLE!" he shrieked again, "Kettle, come help!"

The other guy had been off like a shot once the tree started falling. Okay, not exactly then -- but when he saw the flash-bang of Teak's concentrated fire-pop, going off like a cherry bomb inside the wedge that the guy had cut into the trunk. "Hey, where are you going?" Teak called after him, insincerely. "Scared of a little success?" He didn't have much time to crow, though; the tree fell at an angle he didn’t expect, and Teak could only watch as shapes on its other end moved, scrambled, fell. And then his brother's voice, high and panicked, and Teak scrambled through the sand with one of his untied shoes coming half-off and making him almost faceplant. 

 "Jamie?" he shouted back. "Jamie, are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you? If somebody hurt you--" But he collided with the compact, crouched-over form of his brother, and this time Teak did drop down onto one knee as his shoe flew off. And found himself with an eyeful of Emre Akbar, of course, and his brother's worried squalling in his ear. "You're fine, right?" Teak asked Jamie, first and foremost, before looking at Emre. "You're ... you trapped, or something?"

Jamie didn't care how it looked, or if it was an appropriate moment, he threw his arms around his brother and held on tight, thanking Maria that Teak was safe and sound beside him. "I'm fine," he managed in a wavery voice. "I wouldn't be, but I am, because this geezer threw me out of the way. I'm fine. Just shaken up is all. Are you alright? Because we need to get him out of here."

Emre was dazed enough not to register the names that the other man was hollering for, something about a kettle.  Was this the best time for tea?  Honestly, maybe it was.  Emre was afraid of the fact that he couldn't feel any pain in his leg; he couldn't really feel his leg at all, so yeah - best time to put the kettle on.

It was only when he saw someone else racing forward - and bleary, Emre focused when the stout fellow flung his little arms around the new arrival like a child, only to have his brain belatedly fill in the details over a growing alarm.  Jamie, this one was called.  Kettle, he'd called to the other, only it had nothing to do with tea and had everything to do with --

"Teak?" Emre asked hoarsely, and grimaced at the sight. This was the brother - the one Madi mentioned.  English as you please, and clinging to Teak like a little big-eyed monkey.  'Are you alright', Jamie asked Teak, as if Emre wasn't the one pinned under the bloody tree after saving his bloody life.

"Tree's on me," Emre said, eyes flicking from one pale face to the other, so close together they became one.  "It were falling on your mate here first."

Teak rubbed Jamie's back, shushing at him instinctively as he kept an eye on Emre. Who really wasn't looking all that great, and a more petty part of Teak's mind was pleased about that. Not so full of yourself now, huh? None of that attitude when you're under a tree?

If it was just the two of them, Teak would've ditched. Left Emre there for somebody else to give a crap about. But Jamie was clinging to him, panicky and concerned, so Teak drew in a breath and redirected his attention at Emre. "I'm fine, Jamie," Teak said, taking in the pain-tightening around Emre's huge eyes. "The thing we need to concentrate on is moving this tree trunk. Without making it worse on the geezer."

He patted his brother's hip. "Go down to the other end of the tree and take a look so we know where it's pressing against him. I just need to ask Emre a few things." Teak looked at Jamie, giving him a reassuring smile before pushing him in the other direction. "That's my brother," Teak said to Emre, his voice so low it was almost pitched out of hearing range. "And my brother has a very special way of thinking about me. Nothing's gonna change his mind. You got that?"

"Right", Jamie said, half to himself and half to Teakettle, "Right. I'll go look at the other end and see how bad things are." He smiled shakily at the pat to his hip. "I'm so glad you're alright, Ketts. I was so fucking scared," before letting Teak push him away to make himself useful, heading for the other end of the tree and Emre's trapped leg.

The fog was still so thick that Jamie had to get back on his knees in the sand to really see what was happening, but when he realised, he called back to Teak. "He's pretty firmly stuck - do we lift the tree, or do I try to manipulate the earth to get him out?" Not that Jamie was terribly adept at that yet - but he had to offer. Emre had saved his life after all. The least he could do was try everything he had at his disposal. Jamie could still hear his brother talking to the trapped man, but he couldn't make out what was being said. "Teak?" he called again, "Teak what are you thinking?"

"What you mean, your brother," Emre hissed, words sibilant and sharp, with no intention of playing along with Teak's little game.  He mustered up a glare through his haze.  "Mandem's London, and you're American.  Can't imagine it really matters what he thinks of you as it's all a lie,  innit. Bloody wanker."

Emre could only vaguely hear Jamie's voice sing-songing behind him, through the fog.  He pushed himself up on his arms then, struggling to gain some ground and dignity.  The most he could manage was to balance on his arms, like a raised cobra.

"Need a lever, mate," Emre called back over his shoulder, towards Jamie.  "A long pole like, lift the tree off and I'll clip right out."  He looked back up at Teak, resenting how near he was.  "Magic don't work, yeah.  Dunno why. Fog maybe."

"I mean my brother! People are allowed to have brothers from other places, gosh." Teak glared back at Emre, almost wanting to grab the other man by his throat or his collar but loathe to get too close, having the unsettling feeling that Emre might snap those clean white teeth at his hand and snip a finger right off. "You better be calling me a wanker and not him. You better not be calling him anything."

They both held off in their spitting at each other when Jamie called back with his findings, which were, frankly, of concern. "Yeah, a lever," Teak appended onto Emre's comment, although he shouted louder over the tail end to say, "Don't go looking for one! You shouldn't wander off in the fog."

Teak spared a glare for Emre, saying, "Magic won't work on the fog. He might as well try his earth magic." He lifted his voice, still glaring at Emre, "Jamie! Try your earth magic, but be careful. You don't want the tree settling on him even heavier. Maybe if you could try to make a hump of sand further up the trunk to lift it? I'll look for a lever." He scrambled to his feet, and if he kicked some sand in Emre's face and even maybe connected with the guy's chin with the toe of his one still-sneakered foot, well. It was a fog! Nobody could blame him.

Jamie heard Teak's warning not to go astray in search of levers and he smiled to himself, happy to have Teak in charge again; his heart finally starting to beat at a reasonable pace once more, though he got a bit nervous when Teak told him to take a bash with his earth-magic, knowing he could very likely make things worse with the wrong sort of approach. But a hump of sand further up the tree he felt vaguely sure he could do; something in the low reverberations of the ground comforting and reassuring, and Jamie moved to a new vantage point to redistribute the tree's not inconsiderable weight, hopefully making the lever idea an easy task to accomplish.

So he sank back down to his knees and buried his hands in the sand, concentrating for all he was worth, visualising the sand raising the felled coconut tree and freeing Emre's leg; and for a frustrating moment there was nothing, no movement, no shift, no anything at all. So Jamie redoubled his efforts, eyes squeezed shut, until suddenly the sand began to shake around them, skimming and redistributing itself until it had made a hill, a fulcrum, and Jamie opened his eyes again, startled at his accomplishment. "Ketts," he called excitedly, "I did it! Have you found that lever yet? Emre, are you doing alright?"

Emre still didn't understand the nature of Teak and Jamie's fraternity, but it annoyed him nonetheless.  Particularly when Teak - fucking Teak - had the nerve to act protective about his brother.  Emre kissed his teeth.  "Leave it out, you muppet, bruv's what? Twenty-seven? Thirty then?  He's not some youth.  You're easy to exploit my little bruvver innit, you nasty fuck.  I'll call him what I like and he'll thank me for it."

It was grotesque, to Emre, to watch Teak pretend to care about that poor little man.  All he could see was the way Jamie clung to his older brother with such neediness, such fear that Teak might be hurt.  Emre had a hard time believing Teak cared about anything beyond his own well-tanned hands.

Teak booted sand up and Emre snarled, watching him scamper off into the fog.  He remained silent, mulling over Madi's words.  Jamie, Teak's brother, who knew an 'Emre' the drug-dealer.  Fucking hell.  It was likely, now that he heard the accent and knew it wasn't put on.  This little man might've actually been one of Emre's old clientele, from years back.  Jamie wouldn't remember his face though.  He couldn't.

He felt a sudden easing of pressure off his calf, and it filled with pins and needles, making Emre wince.  But then the pressure returned and Emre was almost glad for it.  "I'm all sunshine, sunshine.  Alright?  No panicking, yeah?  Your bruv's gone off to find the lever, he'll be back soon."  Emre hoped.  "You and Teak, you grew up together then?"

"No, no panicking," Jamie answered, closer to Emre's head now than he had been, keeping a weather eye on his little masterpiece made of sand, pleased to have finally done something useful. "As soon as Teak finds the right kind of lever, we'll have you out of there, yeah? And I'll be able to thank you properly for what you did for me. I mean, you saved my life, mate. I'll never be able to repay you for that."

"But no, Teak and I didn't grow up together." Jamie laughed then, slightly high pitched and jangling, "But I suppose the accents rather give that away, don't they? We've the same dad but different mums, right? I grew up in London and Teak in New York. We didn't even meet until I was ten and he was fifteen. We're close though. We made sure to be."

Emre dipped into a moment of absolute surreal.  His brain first reminding him that he was on an island where people didn't age and had magic.  Then afterwards, that they were caught in a mysterious fog that cast everything in muted noise and sight, quiet, ominous and serene.  And finally, that one more 'coincidence' (kismet? punishment?) might've cropped up on the island, in the form of little Jamie, Teaks' Londonist brother and once-purchaser of Emre's gear.

He stayed silent for a long moment, but honed in on a specific fascination: the brotherly connection between Jamie and Teak.  Emre yearned to hear it, yet resented knowing it as well;  thinking jealously and bitterly of Teak and Iyaz on New Years, in flagrante.  Teak, basking in the love and reverence of his own younger brother, but eager to take Emre's little brother as well.

Because of course he did.  Boys like Teak felt entitled to it all, and inevitably got it all their way in the end, after all.  He got Jamie's adoration, he got Iyaz seduced.

"Remarkable, how you managed to be so close, living so far apart.  Seems he's everything to you, innit mate," Emre said, voice hoarse and throaty.  "Where'd you grow up in London then? My ends were Forest Gate, yeah.  Moved about when I got older, though."

"We made an effort to be. Visits, hols, I saw Teak as often as I could, and fortunately our grandfather had enough money to make that happen. And he is actually, yeah," Jamie went on, "Ever since I got here, I'd have been lost without Kettle. I mean, he's my big brother. Looks after me, doesn't he?"

"Try not to move," Jamie said sympathetically, the rawness of Emre's voice something of a cause for concern, "Teak'll be back soon, I promise. We'll get you out of there."

Going back to Emre's questions, Jamie grinned a little when he heard Emre hailed from Forest Gate. "I had a mate, lived over there. Me though, I grew up in Hackney. Shoreditch, if you want to be specific. Still do, I suppose. Or my mum does, anyway." Jamie chuckled to himself. "Did you want to hear something funny?" he asked, "I had a drug dealer once called Emre. What are the odds of that, eh?"

Emre had to admit: he did feel a strange sense of comfort, hearing someone who spoke his language.  Sure, Americans did English too, but their sort of English.  This, this Jamie, was familiar.  That East End sound of him, glorious.

"Shoreditch, what.  You one of them artisanal art-house gastro-pub coffeehouse types then?" Emre couldn't help teasing, reveling in the shared locality.

But Emre knew he couldn't afford to indulge himself.  Not when this little bloke was Teak's brother, and not when Jamie cheerfully confirmed his own 'Emre the dealer'.  He shut his eyes and exhaled, glad to solidify this confirmation, made homesick by Jamie's cadences, but wishing none of this was happening.

"You what?" Emre said, forcing amusement into his tone.  He kissed his teeth.  "Nah man, I worked a Tesco's innit." A reliable lie.  One he'd used with Piper.  "Most drugs I ever sold were vitamins.  Sure could do with some weed right now though, can't I." Emre paused, suddenly feeling wildly cocky and slightly masochistic as he then asked,  "So what ever happened to your Emre then?"

“I am now," Jamie laughed, "It wasn't that way when I was growing up. But yeah, I sell designer trainers at one of those little boutiquey shops where everything costs 10 times what it's worth, so I suppose I might better lean into the Shoreditch of it all."

When Emre went on to ask about Emre the long lost drug dealer though, assuring Jamie that he worked at Tesco's, the familiarity of his voice just seemed to increase tenfold, until Jamie almost had to laugh at himself for even entertaining the idea that this Emre and his hard man Emre might be one and the same. Tesco's was a far cry from what Jamie had heard his Emre was capable of, and besides, even here, really what were the odds?

"My Emre?" Jamie asked, "Well, I suppose we just drifted apart. I was a good customer for about three years or so - just party drugs, nothing to worry over - and then a mate of mine wound up in hospital, courtesy of Emre, and I gave up the drugs after that. I mean a bit of fun is a bit of fun, but when people end up with breaks and fractures, it's time to admit that the fun is over, yeah? I haven't even touched a spliff in years."

"Oi, which shop then?" Emre asked, almost a little too eagerly.  The craving pinged hard and fast the moment Jamie mentioned the magic words 'trainers' and 'boutique'.  What Emre wouldn't give, for a good pair of designer trainers.  No that he'd wear them in this place, of course.  Just keep them, safe and precious, just to....look at.  And clean, from time to time.

He doubted it was any shop he'd frequented though, given what Jamie told him next, about what happened to 'his Emre'.  Right...that was right.  Vague memories drifted into Emre's mind now, sloshing and lapping in waves that made Emre feel almost drunk.  It was all so far away, so far back, soft and hazy like a dream.  A dream about drugs dealing, the street hustle, the roadmen and rudeboys, the clientele and parties, the fights and blood flying in the alleyways.  So Jamie had been tied up in that scene once, and Emre had supplied him.

He wished he could get a better look at Jamie's face, but he was also glad for the fog, for now. Because if there was even a chance of Emre recognizing Jamie, there was also a chance of Jamie recognizing his face too.

"Right yeah mate,"  Emre agreed with a whole-hearted good-lad tone.  "Best to get out of that life before it's too late innit.  Too many...too many mates I know never made it past their twenties innit.  Sure you know the same."

There was no doubt, this Jamie knew the same.  This Jamie, who did not grow up posh  and entitled, like his older brother.  This Jamie who was nothing like Teak, yet retained the deepest loyalty to him.  Fucking hell.   Despite how much Emre felt desperate to connect with a slice of home, he would have to be careful.  Fucking Teak.

Scouting around for a proper branch to use as a lever was proving harder than he'd anticipated; out here on the beach coconut trees were the main ones, and they just had the big long trunk, no branches. And Teak had wanted to stay close by to keep an ear on the conversation, keep an eye on his brother, and even more than that to keep an eye on Emre. Which might have seemed like overkill, given that Emre was currently caught like a mean-faced mouse in a trap, but Teak didn't think it was prudent to underestimate the man. Not after that cut that Emre had left high on Teak's cheekbone when he'd swung at him.

But the lack of branches forced Teak to venture a little further afield, to the supply tent that he'd so scorned earlier when he was getting clothes for Jamie. At least there he was able to collect a long, sturdy branch that some thoughtful person had thoughtfully stocked, and bore it back to the felled tree as fast as he could.

At least his brother seemed fine. Crouched down chatting away with Emre, in fact, and since Jamie wasn't the sort who could conceal his feelings, Teak was relieved to hear that his voice sounded normal, interested, the only tenseness in it from the current situation. "I found something," Teak called, and moved along the length of the trunk until he located a built-up hump of sand. "You did this, Jamie?" he said. "Wow. That's really good. I guess being able to use our powers excellently right out the gate must run in our family, huh? Bevans-Middleton brothers for the win, awwwright!"

Childish and petty to champion his brother and himself in front of the man whose brother Teak had aggressively made out with? Maybe. But Emre the mean-face was in no position to object. "I'm gonna get this lever in and lift the trunk," Teak said. "Jamie, you be ready to pull him out when it lifts, okay? Emre, you get ready to crawl fast."

Jamie was just in the midst of replying that he'd worked at Mr. Sneaker on Bethnal Green Road, and agreeing that it was best to get out of that life before it took more from you than you were willing to part with, when Teak arrived back with a substantial sized branch and some words of praise for Jamie's little built up sand hill, and Jamie grinned with pride, proud of his own achievement and even prouder that Teak was impressed too.

Kettle explained what he was about to do, told Jamie and Emre to be ready, and Jamie nodded, more than prepared to tug Emre free if he had to. "Alright, Emre?" he asked. "Count of three, yeah?"

Mollified whilst chatting with Jamie, the moment Teak showed up in all his tanned glory raised Emre's ire from zero to eighty the moment he heard Teak say 'Wow'.  He even went as far - for Emre's audience, he was sure of it - to holler about how great him and his little brother were.  Emre steamed internally; and there was that small, nagging part of Emre that couldn't help thinking: wasn't Teak right?  Despite people who were wary of Teak, there were always going to be others charmed by him - like Emre's own brother.  And it would be even moreso now that Teak paraded  around his own cute little mascot baby brother.

This was just the way of the world.  And isolated as the island was, the people on it were not all inured to the way the world worked, for boys like Teak Middleton.    They always got their way, in the end.

A rush of tension and mild defeat  washed over Emre's previous glee, and he nodded at Jamie.  "On three, yeah," he said softly.  The moment the brothers worked in tandem and pried the coconut tree up and Emre scrambled free, wincing at the rush of pins and needles again.  He rolled into sitting up, inspecting his calf first, then smacking feeling back into it.  "I'm alright.  I'm fine.  Thank you."

"Well, if you're sure you're fine," Teak said ungenerously, dropping the branch now that it was no longer needed. He turned his attention back to Jamie while taking off his single shoe, annoyed that he'd misplaced the other. "Do you still have those shoelaces, Jamie? We should get going and you need to tether yourself to me again. This fog looks even thicker than it was to start with."

Moving a little closer to Jamie, Teak said in a lower voice as if Emre would jump onto this plan, "--those other people ran off but I think we should check out where they might be building some rafts. And see if we can get on one of those to head out to the rescue ship. Just you and me, maybe, if we can get one for ourselves."

"Kettle!" Jamie scolded, "Give the poor lad a minute. Jesus." He turned to Emre, "You're sure you're not hurt?", then refocused back on his brother, hurriedly pulling Teak's shoelaces back out of his pockets.

"I've still got them, yeah." He got to his feet and began tying himself to his older brother once again. "Right," he murmured, "I think the fog is thicker now. And rafts sound like a good idea - but shouldn't we bring Emre too? He was looking for the boat builders when he nearly got crushed saving my life."

Emre remained in the sand, unwilling to try and stand-up yet because he didn't want to stumble in front of Teak. He just stared, trying to hide his incredulity, as Jamie literally tied himself to Teak.  If Emre ever suggested something like that to Iyaz, he'd get nothing but grief from his little brother.  Rightfully so, really. Every demonstration of blind adoration that Jamie demonstrated towards Teak, only made things more painfully obvious (and a bit horrifying) to Emre.

He hated to agree with anything Teak said, but he called out to Jamie anyway,  "Nah mate, don't fret over me.  I'll find my way to Tamyra's boat, you help your brother, yeah."

Maybe they'd make some bollocks raft, and then drown out at sea together, inshallah.

"And maybe find out who tried to drop a tree on you, yeah? Nearly offed you, didn't it?  Accident or no."

[trek-tracks]

I was tagged by @star-trek-is-my-lifesource

Rules: Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you want to get to know better.

Nickname: On here - Bev. From some very specific people: Miss Kitty Fantastico. Otherwise, too close to my real name to reveal.

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Height: 5’8”

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Last thing I googled: The Toronto Theatre Database

Song stuck in my head: It’s going between “Captain Kirk is Climbing a Mountain” (thanks, friends) and a much better classical choral piece called Stars by Eriks Esenvalds, two versions of which you should listen to right now if you need to feel at one with the universe. The backing instrumentation is all rubbed wineglasses. I’ve performed it a few times and it’s SO GOOD.

Following: 161. I should probably raise that, but I miss enough stuff already.

Followers: 5028 (jfc)

Amount I sleep: Lately it’s been about 4 hours, maybe five max. I need to get more sleep.

Lucky Numbers: 10, 18

Dream Job: Musical theatre librettist and song parodist (also technically my actual job, English and theatre professor, is kind of my dream job)

Currently Wearing: Dark blue dress with half-sleeves, a pale pink flower/sunburst pattern, and a waist sash.

Favorite songs: I have so many, and so these are only a few off that top of my head that are current…Choral: That Esenvalds one, And Yet It Moves by Jason Jestadt, When David Heard by Eric Whitacre, Triptych by Tarik O’Regan. Pop: He Dreams He’s Awake by Stars, Lovers In a Dangerous Time - Barenaked Ladies, Under Pressure (you should hear us play it on handbells), lots of stuff by Ben Folds, and Great Big Sea. I won’t open the musical theatre wormhole, but there’s a LOT in there, like, Wait For It from Hamilton, Hero and Leander by Adam Guettel, and half of the Sondheim catalogue. Lots of ‘80s stuff, too. Guilty pleasures: I’ll always dance to Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham! and You’re A Strange Animal by Gowan.

Favorite Instrument: Voice? A cappella is my jam. Also the other ones I play (handbells and alto sax).

Random Fact about Me: I was a student dramaturg for the world premiere production of a play that was delayed by 70 years. It was based on a Pushkin work, with music by Prokofiev, and was originally directed by the famous Russian director Vsevolod Meyerhold in the 1930s, but was suppressed by Stalinist forces for its political messaging before its premiere. A professor at my undergrad located Meyerhold’s notes, the music department finished the score, and we put it on stage for the first time. It got a lot of coverage in both the New York and Russian press, and it was really, really cool.

Favorite Authors: Goddamn this is an impossible question for an English prof who also wrote a weekly books column for three years. I have a lot of individual books/plays that I love. I’m going to pick my old standbys Robertson Davies, Tony Kushner, and Stephen Sondheim and leave it at that.

Favorite Animal Noises: Cat purrs, seals saying “GLEG”

Aesthetic: Somewhere between vintage pin-up and Star Trek

Tags: Seventeen people is a lot...I’m going to go with mutuals/people I see in my notes. Please don’t feel pressured to do this! @czarfleet @apathetic-revenant @tealdearest @legaylity @theodorebasmanov @beastlyanachronism @outside-the-government @cowboyjimkirk @annaknitsspock @pywren @animetrashmuffin @trekmemes @deannatroibolton @doctorbeverlycrusher @thekoshertribble @plaidshirtjimkirk @rikonius 

[whumpywhumper]

Oryn--Part 5

This one is a little heavier on the “world-building” side than the whump but I’m using this one for the “Fevers” slot on my @badthingshappenbingo card

Thanks @0idril0 for looking this over for the eternity that this has been on my computer. Red is completed, yellow is requested, and green has an idea--I need some more requests! 

Link to previous parts: Part One, Two, Three, and Four

Tagging the people who seemed interested in Oryn: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @fallingstormphoenix @whumpitywhumpwhump @wildfaewhump @whumping-every-day @imagination1reality0 @voidwhump

***

Galen rustled through his bag, pulling bottles out of it and looking at labels. "I think we're going to need to keep a closer eye on this one," he murmured.  

The "one" in question was finally asleep, his whistling breaths drawn through dry and cracked lips. Emrik continued combing through the black, greasy locks under his hand. The Fae needed all of the comfort that he could get. "I think that would be a good idea," he pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a dry chuckle. "That probably took more than a few years off of all of our lives."  

The older man gave a sardonic smile, "An understatement."

Their sleeping charge moaned quietly, and Emrik turn back to him. His face was lax in sleep, the only evidence of pain a small line between his dark brows, just under the cool cloth on his forehead. Sleep changed the Fae’s face from the terrified and pain filled mask that he had first seen. Emrik didn’t think he would ever forget the stark terror in those yellow eyes or the way he had called out for his goddess. 

Now, he looked so young. Young and war torn—a mass of bruises, stitches, and broken bones. Emrik sighed and flipped the cloth to the cool side. He felt a tug on the tattered remains of the dyät knot and nudged back with gentle reassurance, “It’s alright, shhh.” He brushed through the dark hair again before disentangling the knot and releasing the magic. A shudder rolled through him at the release, and he sighed in relief. 

 Galen gave him a concerned look at the noise, "Are you going to be alright? You don’t normally seem to strain like that." 

"I don’t normally have to strain like that,” he muttered, giving the sleeping Fae a considering look. “I'll be fine. I'm just glad I waited until he let me, and I didn't try to force the knot on him." 

The human cocked his head at him with confusion, hands stilling, “You know I don’t know magic, especially your magic, what do you mean?” 

“I mean if I had tried to force him, I wouldn’t have had the power to follow through.” A shrug, “Would’ve knocked me out of commission for a few days, trying to battle it out with him.”

A frown, "I've never heard you put it that way before, lad. Usually, you just do it and everything is fine." 

"Usually, our patients are human," Emrik leaned forward in the chair that he had drug to the bedside, "or lesser seelie. Greater seelie are a whole new game, their grasp of magic is unparalleled. Their access to the weave of lei lines in the world is literally a part of their body, like an extra organ." He sighed and shrugged, "I don't understand all of it. I just know my magic cannot trump his. You humans have found ways around it," he tapped at the cuffs around their poor charge's wrist with a dark look, "for certain things. But I can't." 

Galen gave an equally dark look at the cuffs and collar. “Guess I’ll take your word for it then.” He came over with his bag and pulled the blankets back from his charge’s chest. Black bruises crawled up his sides, equally matched by red welts and stitched cuts. The tube, made from the hollow roots of an astor plant, in the Fae's chest wall had been quickly stitched in place, held against his side with blood tacky bandages and lead down to a glass bottle on the floor. 

His hands were gentle as they could be, but the Fae whimpered as the older man searched for air pockets or other injuries from his fall. “I know, I know, pup, it hurts.” Galen’s voice held a comforting baritone gravel that settled their charge, his weak breaths smoothing into a softer rhythm. 

Emrik shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “You said Melisandra is coming in the morning, right?”

“Mmmhm, why?” 

“I think she speaks better Saethe than I do, she might be able to talk to him if he wakes up again. He seemed to respond to some of what we said, but I don’t know how well he understands us. Even if he understands us, I don’t know how well he would speak Common.” 

Galen grimaced. “He knows the words ‘please’ and ‘no more’, I can tell you that. He woke up for a few minutes earlier tonight, begged me not to hurt him.” 

“They really did a number on him,” Emrik murmured. He shook his head again, pushing away the melancholy as he stood. “He’s stubborn, hopefully stubborn enough to recover from this. I’m going to go and get you more water.” 

“Thanks.”  

*** 

Oryn woke to the low murmur of voices nearby. There was a cold wet weight over his eyes and arms that caused him to shiver weakly. His bones ached and the slight weight that covered him was too much. It hurt, everything hurt, and he couldn’t stop the quiet whimper that pushed through his chapped lips. The voices near him quieted, and he did his best to breathe normally through his fear and confusion. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that the people in the room weren’t actively hurting him. That could change quickly if they knew that he was awake. 

A cool slender hand pressed against his hot cheek, and the Fae flinched, automatically turning his head away, a burbled moan caught in his throat at the spike of pain through his spine. The wet weight—a towel?— slipped from one of his eyes, but he kept it closed. 

“He is so warm,” an accented feminine voice whispered, not appearing to notice that he was awake as the towel was eased back over his eye. “How long has his fever been like this?” 

“The fever started last night,” a gruff vaguely familiar grumble answered, near his hip, “it’s still climbing. Emrik and I are doing everything we can for it, but it’s up to him now.” 

The woman hummed, slender fingers pressing over the wet towel, making cold drops of water track down past his ears. “Did he wake at all?”��

A choked laugh, and he heard the rasp as the man ran his hand over his beard. “For a few minutes. By Tala, he was so scared.” The gruff voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “The pup toppled off the bed when I went to get water for the fever and split some of his stitches open falling on the floor. Punctured his damn lung. Poor Emrik had to help me calm him.” 

”I saw Emrik when I came in, he’s dead asleep in your foyer.” The woman’s light touch moved across his forehead and carded through Oryn’s still matted hair, catching on the tangles and knots. His fevered skin ached where her fingers touched, hypersensitive to the pull of his hair against his scalp, and he couldn’t suppress the hitch in his breath.  

“Hmph, he said he used a lot of his reserves last night, tried to explain some of the magic to me. Not that I understood it. Meli, I know Emrik is exhausted, but is there anything you can do?” 

Fevered confusion clouded the injured Fae’s thoughts. What?

“I don’t think so, Galen. Our magic doesn’t work the same with them. I haven’t figured out why yet.” The woman‘s chair skittered over the floor as she stood. “Even if he was human, he is very weak right now. I don’t know that he would survive my attempts at healing.” 

“That’s basically what Emrik said,” a thick fingered hand took Oryn’s limp one and covered his swollen fingers with a warm, rough palm. Oryn’s fingers twitched around the larger hand, the hard splints under the manacles causing a twinge through his arm, and the stranger smoothed over them with a soft murmur. “He’s been tortured to within an inch of his life, Meli. Where did your men say they found him?” 

Her men? Who were these people?  Were they Soren’s friends? A dim memory of yelling men with authority in their voices welled up, but it was too tenuous to grasp and examine. 

A quiet rustle of papers across the room marked the woman’s location. “Soren’s, apparently he was searching for some seelie runaways. You know about his fascination with their magic.” 

Oryn felt his insides throb at actually hearing Soren’s name, a sharp inhalation making his ribs tug painfully, and an insistent voice started up in the back of his mind. They’re Soren’s friends. They’re going to hurt me too. They’re just waiting for Soren to come back.

 He barely noticed the other’s fingers stilling over his own.  “Run aways?” the questioned response stressed the plural. “By Tala, will he never learn? Someone needs to teach him there is a reason that the seelie are illegal to own. He is going to cause another war.” 

A sharp sigh.  “I’m not sure he hasn’t. The run aways were, apparently, on the border of the Leander Ridge when this one was captured. I don’t think the Queen’s forces were able to find the others after we got our report from Soren’s informant.” 

Oryn felt his heart start to drum against his ribs, a spike of dread lancing through his gut. They were hunting the other seelie too. That’s why they were treating him, because Soren hadn’t gotten the information from him. 

She continued with an ironic lilt to her voice that made Oryn tense further. “Besides, and I have no idea how he did it, but this little pup killed him as my Inquisitors broke the door down. So I guess we don’t have to worry about teaching Soren any lessons in the the future.” 

“I’m sorry, he what?!” Shock colored the male’s voice as Oryn’s hand was placed back on the covers.    

The Fae felt a wave of alarmed confusion start to roil and churn within him. Dead? A fog of pained memory boiled up, the sharp press of a knife against his abdomen, a brief, sweet flash of hope. But nothing else. He killed Soren? 

Meli laughed as she answered, and the Fae’s frantic mind turned it into a sharp, cacophic peel of noise. “You heard me, Galen. Soren cracked his head on the floor, and it turned his brain to jelly. The only reason I know it was your dark haired charge, and not some sort of freak stroke, is that one of the lesser seelies could feel the knot.” 

“But, how? This has to be one of the most magically restrained seelie I’ve ever come across, how did he even manage to scrape together the magic to form a knot?” 

“I’m not—“ she cut herself off and there was the soft slip of fabric against fabric. Oryn felt the woman’s presence leaning over him again before there were slender fingers at his throat, over his collar, over the pounding pulse in his throat. “Galen,” she murmured, softly, “I think he’s awake.” 

Oryn’s chest hurt, and he realized he’d forgotten to control his breathing, small wheezes for air making his broken ribs scream with pain. Panic flared, and he choked on a whimper when he sensed the male leaning over him as well, the masculine presence strong and looming. Celünie, please. Please, don’t hurt me. Soren was going to hurt the boy. He was so young. Please. 

“Oh, lad,” Galen murmured, “shhhh, easy, it’s okay.” 

It wasn’t okay. Oryn didn’t know who these people were, and they were touching him, and he didn’t feel good, and everything hurt. He gave up playing at sleep and tipped his head back into the pillow, shifting, gasping as a throbs of pain pounded through him. Wanting to get away from the hand at his throat, the potential punishment. He tried to move his legs, needed to flee, but he moaned weakly when a jolt of pain crashed through his body like lightning. Traveling from the broken bones and into the shorn muscles in his abdomen. 

“Shhh, myonik, shhhh,” the woman soothed in Sæthe, “we are not going to hurt you.” Her fingers moved from his throat to brush against his hair in a deceptively gentle caress, another hand trying to cup his cheek.  

Oryn didn’t believe her. Didn’t believe any of these humans with their promises and gentle hands. They’d been gentle before too. But he’d killed Soren, and they wanted to punish him. Hurt him. Make him scream. 

His body was so heavy, and it was agony to move, every tiny muscle contraction telling him to stay still. But he didn’t want them to touch him. The damp cloth slid off of his face when he shook his head, rejecting the hand against his cheek, dull pounding starting up behind his eyes. The heat of the fever flared without the coolness of the cloth, and he whined, eyelids sliding open to search the blurry shapes over him. 

Two people hovered, the bright light making them dark, indistinguishable shadows to the brightness of the room. He flinched back with a tight gasp of air, trying to raise his arms in a defensive posture, but the heavy appendages were easily caught in strong hands. His wrists throbbed even in the light grip, and the square, broad hands controlled him without any trouble. Ignoring his whimpers of protest, the man crossed his wrists across his stomach so that Oryn could be pressed back into the mattress by his other hand.  

“Don’t move, lad,” Galen ordered, false kindness in his voice, “you’re very sick and very hurt. You need to stay still.” 

Oryn’s struggles weakened, and he shuddered, the fear of disobeying overcoming his trembling limbs. His tongue was heavy and unwieldy in his mouth, but he swallowed thickly, trying to force his eyes to focus. “Dä. . . d��rog. . .il. . .il a.  . . “ His voice was a hoarse, thin rasp that wavered on the plea, and his dry throat closed on any additional words as he panted for air. 

“Shhh, be calm,” the woman said in Saethe, the lilt of his native tongue falling easily from her lips. The woman leaned further in, the hand in his hair sliding back to cradle his head as a cup was placed against his lips. “Drink, myonik.” Her angular face finally came in to focus, but her expression was unreadable to the exhausted Fae. 

Blinking his gritty eyes fitfully, Oryn turned away from the sloshing liquid in the cup, an incoherent croak all he could manage. His throat was so dry, but these humans would hurt him, wanted to punish him for Soren. Wanted to know where his friends went. He didn’t know what was in the cup. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want it. 

He couldn’t stop the hiccuping sob that slid out of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes closed. Please, I don’t want it. 

“Shh, shh, shh, okay, okay.” The cup left his lips, and he sobbed harder when something skimmed across his cheek softly. “I know you’re scared, shhhh, it’s okay.” 

“Oh pup, don’t cry.” Galen’s hands softened their restraining grip, his thumbs rubbing circles into his skin. 

Oryn exhausted himself quickly, his breaths coming in hitching, shaky sobs and gasps as the woman continued carding through his hair, murmuring softly. “You aren’t going to be hurt, I promise. You’re being taken care of; you’re safe, now. Shhh.” His eyelids fluttered weakly, unable to fully unshutter themselves, and he swallowed past the dryness in his mouth. 

“This is just water, we aren’t going to hurt you, but you need to drink, little one.” The woman raised his head again as she pressed the cup back to his mouth, and Oryn couldn’t fight against the cool liquid as it poured past his chapped lips. Pure, sweet water touched his tongue, and it soaked it up like a sponge in the desert. Swallowing fitfully, he sighed as the water soothed his parched throat, and she helped him drink until she pulled the cup away. 

The Fae was drifting on fatigue, the rattle of things in the room making him jerk and whine, as the woman lowered his head back down. “Galen, is that too much water?” 

“That should be enough for now,” Galen murmured, making Oryn shudder as new cool rags were drawn down his arms and across his neck. “He needs all of the fluids he can get, but we can’t have him drinking too fast.” 

“Okay. . . “ Fingers carded through his hair again before she continued in Saethe, “Sleep now, myonik, we will talk when you feel better.” 

Oryn whimpered, head ticking to the side as he forced himself to stay awake.  He wanted to explain, maybe they’d have mercy if he explained. “D’rog. . . “ he slurred, wavering “. . .S’ren. . .” 

“Hush, you don’t have to worry about Soren. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you here. Sleep.” 

The Fae did the only thing he could and obeyed, dark completely overtaking him.   

[empyreanwritings]

Nostalgia’s a Bitch

Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k, short and sweet

Warnings: suggestive themes

You never were one to be nostalgic. You acknowledged your good and bad memories whenever you met with old friends, but that’s about as far as it went. You focused on the future. Every decision you made now affected what your life would be like later. So, you tried your best not to dwell on the past. But you admitted to yourself that being back at Kansas State University definitely brought a smile to your face.

It was finals week for the current students, and you could see it on their faces as you walked by. Exhaustion. Stress. A little bit of determination. These were the same emotions you felt when you went here to earn your bachelor’s. Part of you wanted to stop and say hello to all of your professors, but you were on a mission. Time to stop and smell the roses wasn’t exactly on your schedule.

You still knew exactly how to get there. Walking there was an instinct at this point. You smiled at the professors and students that walked past you. It felt strange being back here after all this time. You didn’t miss it, but it definitely felt nice somehow. It reminded you of an easier time.

When you reached the door of his office, nervousness suddenly bubbled up in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t exactly sure why you felt this way. But you couldn’t turn back now, so you took a deep breath and knocked on the door. You heard a few mumbles and the distinct click of his phone before he finally responded.

“Come in,” he called out to you.

Dean was shocked when you stepped in, but he quickly composed himself before you could notice. You walked over to his desk confidently and shook his outstretched hand. He gestured for you to sit, which you did after taking a moment to look around the office. Two years and nothing had changed. Except, maybe, he finally dusted. But that was a solid maybe. From the looks of the bookshelves, it was starting to look unlikely.

“How was Brown?” He asked you after a beat of silence.

You smiled and shrugged, “It was alright. Stuffy ivy leagues always seem better from an outsider’s perspective, but it was still nice.”

“Did you end up completing your master’s?”

“I did!” This small talk killed you, but you expected it. “Which is why I’m here, actually. President Wallace offered me a position, but he wants me to get a letter of recommendation first from an esteemed colleague.”

Dean nodded, “I’m sure I can get something for you. You were one of the best TAs I’ve had. I don’t think I would have finished the Hero and Leander project without you.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating that,” you mumbled, feeling the blush creep up on your cheeks. You tried your best to hide it, but he had already seen it before you could.

Dean remembered the first time he had seen you blush like that. You had rushed into his office, five minutes late for your interview. Apologies flew out of your mouth before he even greeted you. At first he tried to seem upset with your tardiness, but he could tell that you were already beating yourself up for it. He didn’t need to make it worse. So, for your sake, he pretended that you were on time and proceeded to conduct the interview.

You had all of the qualifications. Top 10% of your class. 4.5 GPA. Most sophomores in college focused on parties and just barely getting by, which is why he almost never considered a sophomore for his TA position. You were clearly different. He knew the moment you sat down that no other person could compare to you. The way you carried yourself intrigued him. He wanted to know more, even if that seemed entirely inappropriate. And he hadn’t even realized he was staring at you so intensely until you started to blush.

He probably should have turned you away the moment he realized the way you made him feel, but he didn’t regret giving you the position. You worked harder than any other student. Many professors were actually jealous that he managed to snag the good TA. He always knew you’d be successful, and it made him happy seeing you thrive now.

“How ‘bout this, I’ll write up the recommendation and give it to you on Sunday. How does 8 o’clock sound?” Dean proposed as he stood up and made his way around the desk.

You bit your lip and thought about your options. You could tell Dean to leave your relationship in the past, to never think about it again. He’d still give you the recommendation because he wasn’t a total ass. But that wasn’t at all what you wanted. Whether it would be professional or not, you wanted to be with him again. You missed the good morning texts and the late night coffee runs. No other man completed you the way he did.

Once you thought it over, you stood up as well and held your hand out for him.

“I’m staying at the Wyndham just around the corner, you can pick me up there.” When he shook your hand, you pulled him close to you; your chests brushing up against each other. You practically felt how fast his heart was beating when you did that. The effect you had on him never ceased to make you smile.

“Make sure to wear that tie I like, Professor,” you whispered into his ear and kissed the soft spot just below it. You almost missed the shaky breath he let out as you pulled away. Almost. He wasn’t that sneaky.

Back when you attended Kansas State, you never dreamed of being so bold. You weren’t even sure where that boldness suddenly came from, but you loved the way it made Dean react. His cheeks were flushed in an instant, and he was breathing rather hard. You would have done more to mess with him, but you had to be at lunch with President Wallace in twenty minutes.

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and started walking towards the door. When your hand touched the doorknob, Dean’s voice stopped you.

“The tie you like, or the tie you like to be tied up with?” You could practically hear his smirk in that statement.

You glanced over your shoulder and flashed him a sly smile, “Surprise me.”

[thethespacecoyote]

Happy (early) Mothers Day! Decided to try to combine these prompts for something small and fluffy. Hope you both like!

By the time Kylo walks into the kitchen, it’s already too late.

The entire place is a mess, from wall to wall. Bags of flour and sugar spill all over the counters, and what looks like half a carton of eggs lie smashed all over the floor. Each compartment of the sink sits full of dirty dishes, bowls, and other miscellaneous kitchenware, as if each had been used once then discarded. And in the middle of it stand all four of his children, their little matching pajamas similarly splattered and stained as they look sheepishly up at him.

For a moment, Kylo can only marvel at how quickly they conjured such a mess. He’d only been gone on his security check for little over an hour at best, and when he’d left all of them had been sound asleep in their respective beds. Or at least, that’s what he’d believed.

“Papa, stop!” Amelie cries, running up to him and placing her little hands on his tunic, leaving prints of flour all over the black fabric. “Don’t look!”

It’s far too late for that, and even his oldest child isn’t nearly tall enough to block him from observing the disorder in the kitchen. He shakes his head, though more amused than admonishing.

“What have you four been up to, exactly?” Kylo asks in a soft voice, hunching over a bit as he ruffles his hand through Amelie’s bedhead.

“We were planning on making breakfast for Mama, ‘cause he’s tired with the baby, but it’s kinda hard…” Aeon flings her arms out, indicating all the mess, as if Kylo has somehow missed it.

“Uh huh. I can see there’s been some trouble.” He pats Amelie lightly on the shoulder, getting her to move back towards her siblings as he sweeps further into the kitchen, carefully stepping over a cup measure one of the children had apparently been pouring milk into, unable to hold both it and the carton at the same time.

Thankfully, it doesn’t look like any of them had been able to figure out how to turn on the oven or stove. If they had, Kylo can’t even begin to imagine the earful he would’ve gotten from Hux.

“Stars, what were you all trying to make?” He raises his brow at the mess, unable to figure out from the mismatched ingredients scattered all over the kitchen.

“Sylmar said we should try to make Mama waffles—” Amelie starts as she pointed to a skillet half filled with lumpy, powdery batter.

“Did not! I said flatcakes!” Sylmar shoots back, sticking out his lower lip. Behind the squabbling older twins, Leander lets out a distressed whine.

“Father, I told them we should wait for you, but they didn’t listen!” Amelie turns to glare at him, but before it could break out into further disagreement Kylo shushes them all and gets down on one knee.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad about the mess,” he speaks slowly, like Hux taught him to when their children were still young. “But let’s clean up the kitchen for Mama, okay? Then I’ll help you all make him a nice breakfast.”

Usually, it’s difficult to get the children to clean up their own bedrooms, but apparently they’re more motivated when Hux’s feelings are on the line. Kylo carefully oversees the tidying, telling his children where each errant pot and pan is stored, and spraying mild cleaner over the stains and spills so they can work together to mop and wipe them up. Gradually, the kitchen returns to its previous state, and although Hux will surely find fault and summon the cleaning droid to take care of all the missed nooks and crannies later, Kylo is satisfied for the time being.

Some eggs managed to survive the carnage of the first attempt at breakfast, so he decides to whip up a decent omelette for his mate’s breakfast. He lets each of the kids pull up chairs to the counter and gives them each a job they can do with little fuss. He shows Aeon and Leander how to properly crack eggs without getting yolk all over, and permits Amelia and Sylmar to chop up the veggies for the omelette and fresh fruit as a side dish as long as they promise not to wield their knives like pretend lightsabers. All four quickly absorb themselves in their respective tasks, happily asking for their father’s approval with each crack or chop. Kylo nods and smiles along, sure to compliment them just as Hux does. Positively encourage each of their talents, I don’t want any of them thinking they’re lesser than the others, the familiar voice of his mate echoes in his head.

Once they’re finished, Kylo sends them away to scribble a nice card for Hux as he cranks on the stove and slips the beaten eggs into a pan. He smiles softly to himself at the sounds of his children as they debate over which colors to use and what to say to their mother. There’s a bit of squabbling over who gets monopoly over the orange crayon, but it quickly settles, leaving Kylo ample time to get the flip of Hux’s omelette down perfectly.

“Are you all ready?” Kylo asks as he deftly plates his mate’s breakfast, piling the fruit alongside the pillowy eggs. The children scramble to their feet, happily trundling over to him with the huge, folded bit of cardstock proudly displayed. Kylo chuckles softly at the colorful scribbles, depicting a scene of all four kids and their parents in the imperial gardens, with Hux prominently displayed in the middle—complete with a big round bubble drawn right on his stomach. He’s going to love that.

“Why don’t you go on ahead and wake Mama up? I’ll bring him his breakfast,” Kylo instructs as he pours water from the heated kettle into Hux’s favored cups alongside a pair of decaffeinated Tarine tea bags. The children squeak happily, running off in a little mob with Kylo quickly following, clutching the cup in one hand as he balances the plate in the other. He thinks he must make quite a sight—still in his enforcer’s regalia, which often served as the last thing many of Hux’s enemies saw, but sporting a far softer expression. Like some breed of newly domesticated wolf.

Ahead of him, Amelie creaks open the door to the master bedroom, letting her siblings flood in behind her. They try to conceal their giggles and keep quiet but it doesn’t last, and soon they’re racing up to Hux’s bedside to wake him.

Thankfully, the children don’t jump on top of Hux in their excitement—considering the state of his pregnancy, that’s for the best. But they do softly pat at his body until he rouses and props himself up on one elbow, lips bowed in a befuddled frown. With a little bit of effort Hux manages to sit up all the way, the pieces clicking into place inside the emperor’s still-sleepy mind once he sees Kylo with breakfast. Then, he smiles softly, brushing the loose hair off his forehead and behind one ear.

“My. What’s all this?” Hux rests his hand on his belly as he carefully shifts to allow the children some room to crawl up onto the bed with him. They jostle a little bit, each wanting to be as close to him as possible, though they keep mindful of his belly.

“We made you breakfast!” Aeon declares, snuggling up next to her twin, who’s quickly latched onto their mother’s side.

“Really. How did you all manage that?” Hux raises his eyebrow in Kylo’s direction as he sets the steaming plate down on the nightstand and hands his mate the cup of tea.

“I might have helped a little bit, but you should’ve seen them. Working together better than ever before.” Kylo leans in to kiss Hux on the temple as the emperor tilts his chin back. Amelie sticks out her tongue in faux disgust, prompting Kylo to plant another one right on his lips.

“I’m pleasantly surprised at that,” Hux murmurs when Kylo pulls away, keeping a hand calmly rubbing his belly as he brings the cup to his mouth, blowing lightly on the steaming surface. “And no mess? No catastrophes?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Kylo downplays, sitting at the meager bit of space left at the edge of the bed. His mate doesn’t need to know the full extent of the chaos.

“Wonderful. I’m very proud of you all,” Hux says before sipping his tea, a pleasant smile casting over his face as it settles into his stomach. The children titter happily, and as Kylo switches Hux’s teacup for the platter full of food, all four immediately begin to point out which part of the meal they contributed to. Hux nods along as he slices into the omelette, sure to praise both Aeon and Leander for their egg cracking talents and Amelie and Sylmar for their exquisite knife cuts.

Kylo rubs his hand gently along Hux’s thigh, watching the children cuddle with his mate as he idly listens to their conversations. Eventually his eyes fall to the emperor’s belly, already considerably rounded with their growing child. There’s only a handful of months left until they meet the newest addition to the family, and he’s growing antsy. He can already sense sparks of their life in the Force, that flourishing potential already exciting him as much as it worries him.

Four children are already a handful. Kylo isn’t quite sure how they’ll deal with five once this next one is born, but if he can quell a kitchen disaster and pull a successful breakfast out of it, then he’s pretty sure he can tackle anything.