#my brother didn’t learn how to tell or receive a joke until he was 14 he took everything so seriously. he can do it now though and he’s

[kicktwine]

oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock

[cryonme]

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐕

PART FIVE- “Just Because They’re Not Here Doesn’t Mean They Stopped Being Wonderful.”

part one here

part two here

part three here

part four here

short series- jj maybank x kook!reader

word count- 4.3k

tw- guns, knives, mentions of weed, stabbing, swearing, mentions of death, fluff 😊, angst 👿, mentions of murder, fighting, drinking, mentions of stitches and hospitals. lmk if I missed anything

a/n- don’t u all love how I said this was gonna be a “short” series and now we’re at 19.2k words total and five parts? and not even done yet? lol. anyway, this chapter is a fucking rollercoaster of emotions and shit gets really real really fast so hold onto your hats, grab some popcorn, and happy reading!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Your friends all stared at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. JJ’s grip tightened on your thigh, you winced a little but he didn’t let up, which you were glad he didn’t.

“Wait, your mom is dead?” John B asked, earning a smack on the back of the head from Sarah.

“You had a sister?!” Pope explained, confusion plastered on his face. “I thought that was just a ru- OW!” A smack from Kiara.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You think you know a person then all of the sudden she has a dead mom and sister who were killed by her step brother that you didn’t know about.” John B said, a hint of humor in his voice.

“This isn’t funny, John B.” Sarah scolded.

“It’s fine, Sarah.” You assured your friend. “Look, I know I’m a shit friend for not telling you guys things about my life. Tyler, the abortion, my mom and sister. And I’ll work on getting better at it but all of that isn’t important right now, okay?” You looked between John B and Pope, waiting expectedly before they both nodded and backed off.

“What makes you say that, (Y/n)?” Kie asked you, fully turning her attention to you.

“Well when- um, when Tyler showed up at my house that day,” You swallowed your fear, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. “When Tyler showed up at my house that day, he said ‘I did everything I could to get my mom to marry your dad. My mom doesn’t know, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, and now you’re ruining everything with your fat fucking mouth.’”

The room was silent. Nobody really knew what to make out of all of this, all this time you had come off so unbothered, like your life was picture perfect and there was never a dark cloud in your sky. Everything that had happened the past couple of weeks came out of nowhere for the group of friends, especially JJ, John B and Pope, who didn’t even know you had a step brother. But when the three thought back on it, they never really asked.

After about a minute of everyone sitting in shock, Sarah spoke up, “Well, we need to tell your dad and Christine, right?’

You shook your head, “Not until I have enough proof. The entire island’s eyes are on me right now and if I’m wrong I make a fool of myself. I know this is gonna sound really stupid but, I need to find Tyler.”

“No.” JJ protested, his voice sharp.

“You’re right, (Y/n). That does sound stupid.” Pope agreed.

“Super stupid.” John B chimed in.

“I love you, but I have never heard more stupid words leave your mouth.” Kiara said.

“Guys, maybe hear her out.” Sarah said.

Kie whipped her head to the side, looking at the blonde girl in bewilderment. “Seriously? I’m not listening to you when all you seem to do is put (Y/n) in more danger.”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know what the fuck to do!” “You tell someone, dumbass!”

“Jesus, you two! Shut the fuck up!” You interjected, standing up and stomping your foot, ignoring the shooting pain going up your leg.

“I came here because I need help, not to sit here and be judged and have you two fight with each other. Kie, lay off. I begged Sarah not to say anything until I was ready, and promised not to go home until I said something, okay? And you two.” You gestured to John B and Pope, “Telling me I’m stupid for something that I haven’t even explained yet is a little premature. Can we all fucking focus?” You had your time to cry and allow yourself to be broken, but now it was time to get shit done.

Kie shrunk in her seat, muttering a half assed “Sorry” under her breath and crossing her arms. John B and Pope nodded, both boys looking down at their shoes. You sat back down and JJ’s hand returned to its rightful spot on your thigh.

“Now, just, listen to me for a second. We,” You put the emphasis on that word so everyone would be a little bit more open to the idea, “Need to find Tyler so we can somehow record a confession from him. I’ll rile him up, and once I get the confession we get the fuck out. Got it?”

“How the fuck are you gonna find him? Even the Sheriff's department can’t find him.” Sarah said.

“Right,” You responded, “First thing to consider, the police are incompetent, especially here. They probably looked at my house and his job before giving up.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talk in awe.

“Second thing to consider, I have his number. I can ask him to meet up and talk it out.”

“The more you talk, the more I really don’t like this plan.” JJ muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.

“The more you talk, the more I wanna kick your teeth in.” You smiled sweetly, “This is the only way.” You tried pulling a joke, but JJ’s face remained concerned, so your face fell and you leaned into him. “I’ll be okay, JJ. I’ve been dealing with Tyler for years, okay?”

JJ nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling away from you.

“So what can we do?”

“Wherever I meet up with Tyler, I need you all to be on standby. Someone on lookout, someone hiding near me just in case things go south, and someone waiting in the vam.”

Everyone agreed in unison, nodding their heads. “Anything we can to get this asshole put away.” John B said, giving you an encouraging smile.

+

After going over a few details, and finally sending the text to Tyler that you wanted to meet up, the pogues dispersed around the chateau. Pope was talking Sarah’s ear off about the latest book he had just finished while she politely listened and even threw in a couple of her own thoughts, John B and Kie playfully jabbed long sticks at each other, and JJ stood on the porch, watching you swing by yourself on the hammock, lost in thought. He was trying to decide if he should approach you, or give you space. Just then you turned your head and made eye contact with the blond boy, a soft smile on your face, your signature red lipstick back where it belongs.

Fuck space.

He bounded down the stairs and made his way over to you on the hammock, plopping down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a couple minutes, there wasn’t much to say.

“I was 14.” You said, breaking the silence, causing JJ’s head to turn towards you. He stayed silent as you continued.

“Hit and run.” You laughed bitterly. “My little sister was 12. We were finally getting to the point where we didn’t fight everyday, we were becoming friends. She had just started asking me for advice about boys and was always asking to have sleepovers.” You smiled, remembering your little sister fondly. “It still hurts. It’ll always hurt, I think. But, I’ve learned I can’t change what happened, and I try to be thankful for the time I had with her. I would say she probably wouldn’t want me to be sad, but that’s not true, she loved attention.” JJ laughed with you this time.

“What’s her name?” JJ asked.

“Layla.” You responded, her name feeling weird on your tongue. You hadn’t said her name in years. “And my mom, gosh there was no one like my mom.” JJ wasn’t asking, but you were telling.

“She just always understood, you know? She’d let me stay home if my mind was taking over, she continued to buy the ice cream I told her was my favorite when I was 7, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t like it anymore.” You frowned, staring at your hands. “Christine is great, I love her with everything in me. But sometimes I wish she was in my life under different circumstances.”

JJ nodded in understanding, taking his hand in yours and pressing a lingering kiss to it. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are- were.”

JJ shook his head, “Just because they’re not here doesn’t mean they stopped being wonderful.”

You yanked JJ’s hand so his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into him, earning a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re sweet, princess.” You teased, using the nickname that you would use when the two of you fought.

“Tell anyone and you’re dead meat, baby.”

You laughed, resting your head on his chest. “What changed your mind about me?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

JJ thought for a moment, mulling over his words to avoid saying the wrong thing.

“I never changed my mind.”

Your heart dropped as you began to pull away, feeling embarrassed.

“Uh uh uh, let me finish.” JJ pulled you back against him and you huffed. “I never changed my mind because I’ve felt this way about you all along. I’ve never had such strong feelings for a person before, so when you came along I mistook all of the signs as hatred. My mom left and my dad…” JJ trailed off for a moment, trying to put together his words in the least concerning way possible, “My dad takes his anger out on me. And I just never really learned how to receive love, or how to understand it.”

Your heart sank at JJ’s words. All those times he’d show up to the Chateau with bruises and scrapes, telling everyone to fuck off instead of boasting about how he “totally kicked that kooks ass”, it was his dad.

“JJ-”

“Mmm, let’s not do that now, yeah? Just know I’ve adored you this whole time, I was just too stupid to see it.”

“When did you change your mind about me?” JJ asked.

You pondered for a moment, thinking back on when you first started thinking of JJ differently.

“That night at the Boneyard, when Tyler showed up. I was dancing with Pope and all I could think was, ‘I need JJ’, and then there you were. I didn’t want you to ever leave my side again. When you took me back to the Chateau and sat me down on the couch, I was confused because I felt so safe and loved, more than I ever have. It was so out of the blue. Hours before we had just been screaming at each other and then I never wanted you to let me go.”

“You’re making this really hard, Red.” JJ huffed, running a hand over his face.

“What?” You asked craning your neck to look up at him.

“Not kissing you.”

You sat up from your position on his chest, turning your body so you were facing each other, your legs hanging off one side of the hammock and his off the other.

“Then kiss me.”

“(Y/n)...”

“What, scared?”

JJ didn’t say anything, he just looked at you. You had that striking red grin, and your eyes held that glint of mischief and joy.

“You were just inconsolable like, an hour ago.”

“But I’m not now.”

“I-”

“Please, JJ.” You pouted, your eyes big and your frown deep as you slowly reached for him.

And he couldn’t say no to that face.

He slowly brought his hand up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as his face slowly leaned into yours, his hand softly pulling you closer by the neck. You brought one hand up to the back of his neck, burying your fingers in his hair as his other hand found its place on your waist. You stared at each other for a moment, noses barely touching. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was about to crawl out of your throat, the anticipation was driving you crazy but you were also cherishing every second of it, just being so close to him, knowing what’s about to happen.

His lips just barely brushed over yours and your entire body erupted in butterflies, goosebumps dancing all up and down your arms and legs.

“You fucker.” You teased and JJ giggled before fully planting his lips on yours. You felt like you had been on fire and had been dumped into an ice bath. The relief that covered your entire body and soul was something you had never felt before. You had kissed plenty of people in your lifetime, and nothing had ever compared to the feeling you had kissing JJ.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, but JJ whined and pulled you back into him, bringing you to sit on his lap as he continued to kiss you. You both giggled and broke apart when you nearly toppled out of the hammock, JJ’s hands immediately steadying you. He looked up at you while stroking your cheekbone with his thumb before planting soft kisses to your arm, trailing his lips up to your shoulder, neck, cheek and finally one last sweet kiss on your lips.

“Well it’s about goddamn time!” John B yelled as the rest of the pogues whooped and hollered, jumping up and down. Both of you flipped off your friends and JJ kissed you once more, your middle fingers still in the air.

“You’re fucking incredible.” JJ muttered once you broke yet another kiss.

“I know.” You smirked.

Once JJ helped you off the hammock, with a lot of wincing and you telling him his kissing made your bruised lip hurt, you made your way back over to your friends, an unmistakable feeling of joy filling everyone’s hearts.

John B handed you and JJ a beer, which you had to decline because of your concussion, much to your dismay, but you gladly took the joint that Kie offered you, blowing out the smoke into JJ’s mouth before taking the hit for yourself. The sun started to set on the Chateau, so Pope and John B set up a fire and Kie brought out her ukulele, her and Sarah singing in harmony to Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. Your heart swelled in your chest listening to JJ quietly singing along with his arm slung around your shoulders, his face was tinted the slightest shade of pink from being in the sun all day, making his eyes look impossibly more blue. You knew tomorrow brought troubles and anxiety, but you pushed them to the back of your mind, enjoying this beautiful moment with your friends. You rested your head on JJ’s shoulder, your hand coming up to hold his that was around your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his hand. JJ blushed and squeezed you just a little bit tighter.

“(Y/n), you staying the night?”

You smiled and nodded, your eyes a bit droopy from the weed. You had texted Christine already, telling her you were staying the night and assuring her that everyone was staying the night and you were safe.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed, getting up from her spot next to John B. “More beer?” Everyone apart from you nodded as Sarah made her way inside the house to grab more cold beer.

“Aw, well if it isn’t the goonies.”​​

That voice.

Tyler approached the Chateau, Topper, Kelce and Rafe hot on his heels.

Everyone stood up immediately, JJ pushed you behind him without a second thought.

“Heard my baby sister wanted to meet up tonight, thought I’d come to her, spare her the trouble.” Tyler said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You were appreciative of JJ’s protectiveness over you, but this was your fight. “I know what you did, Tyler.” You said, trying your hardest to hide the shakiness in your voice as you pushed JJ out of your way, taking a couple steps forward.

“There she is!” Tyler exclaimed, gesturing his arms to you. “You don’t know shit, dumbass.”

“You killed my mom and sister.”

“Me?” Tyler raised a hand to his chest in shock and turned to his friends, who all shook their heads like you were crazy. “I would never do such a thing.” “You said-”

“Did you hit your head too hard the other day? Sounds to me like you’re making things up.”

He was trying to make you feel crazy, and you weren’t putting up with it.

“What was your plan, huh?” You asked, standing your ground. “Hit my mom and my little sister with your car, devastating my family so my dad could go running into your unknowing mother’s arms. Were you gonna kill all of us next so you could get the money? How exactly did you plan on doing that?”

Tyler’s chest was heaving up and down, sharp breaths coming in and out of his nose.

“Layla was 12 years old, you psychopath.”

“I never meant to kill your fucking sister!”

And there it was. Eerie silence fell over the Chateau like a heavy blanket.

“You motherfucker.” You shrieked, stomping forward and sending your hand flying across his cheek. Before you could even blink, Tyler had his hand around your throat and the barrel of a gun pressed to your jaw. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You could see the pogues, Kiara with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, hugging Sarah close to her, John B and Pope holding JJ back, his eyes wild with anger and fear. You could see Topper and Kelce with wide eyes, obviously unaware of the gun in your step brother's possession. You could see Rafe with a knowing grin on his face. Bastard.

You were terrified, panic surging through your body as you tried to stay still so you wouldn’t anger him with any sudden movements.

“Any of you even think about moving and I kill her!” He screamed.

“Tyler, put the gun down man, what the fuck?” Topper said, his voice calm, trying to talk him down.

“Fuck you!”

And suddenly Tyler was on the ground, the gun flying into the darkness. JJ wasted no time running to your step brother, grabbing him by his shirt collar and beating his face with his fists. You and Rafe made eye contact before both of you made a break for the gun, scrambling through the darkness. Rafe tackled you down and tried to reach for it, but you kneed him in the crotch, hoping to buy you a couple seconds. The Cameron boy groaned and held his area, toppling over and whining in a fetal position.

“Pussy boy.” You rolled your eyes and crawled toward the gun, smiling once it was in your grip before Rafe pulled you back by your ankle. You flipped over onto your back and pointed the gun at him.

“You don’t have the guts.”

“Self defense, bitch. Now get off of me.”

Rafe backed up with his hands in the air and you made your way back to the group, gun in hand, still pointed at Rafe. Tyler and JJ were going at it, both throwing punches and kicks, the rest of the group fighting off Topper and Kelce.

“Back off my friends or I'll shoot!” You yelled, and everyone stopped and turned to you with your gun pointed at Rafe. The three kooks backed off with their hands up in surrender.

“You won’t shoot me, Little Red.” Tyler said, walking closer to you.

“I will if you try anything.” You responded, taking the gun off of Rafe and shoving him forward so he was still in your eyesight, now pointing it at Tyler.  

“You stay away from her!” JJ yelled, charging towards Tyler but quickly being held back by Rafe and Topper.

Tyler got so close to you that the gun was touching his t-shirt.

Why was he testing you? He had to have something up his sleeve.

The motherfucker literally had something up his sleeve.

Tyler tore a switchblade out of his jacket sleeve and jabbed it into your collarbone, and in the same second you fired the gun.

Your brain felt fuzzy, you couldn’t even feel the knife in your collarbone, the only way you knew it was there was because you could see it sticking out of the corner of your eye.

You heard screams, multiple screams.

Footsteps running away.

Was someone crying?

Were you crying?

Everyone ran to you, JJ leading the group, so he got to you first. He immediately put his hands on your face, frantically searching your eyes before you dropped to your knees, JJ following suit.

“Baby, look at me.” He said firmly. Someone gently took the gun from your hands, why were you still holding it? You brought your hand up to touch the knife, crying out in pain from the smallest touch.

“No, don’t touch it, okay? Leave it alone, paramedics are on their way okay?”

You still didn’t look at him, your eyes were wide as you stared at everyone around you, their faces full of concern.

“She’s in shock.” Pope stated. He was crouched in front of you, next to JJ. “Try to bring her back to reality.”

“How the fuck do I do that?” JJ snapped.

“Chill, JJ! Talk to her, touch her, anything!”

JJ’s left hand continued to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch as his right hand threaded through your hair. “You’re okay, okay? Can you talk to me?” His voice broke, tears beginning to fill his blue eyes.

Your eyes wandered away from the group and landed on Tyler’s body, lifeless. You let out a gasp as if all of the wind had been knocked out of your body.

“I killed him.” You rasped.

JJ quickly moved in front of the body, blocking your view of him. Your breathing was shallow as you brought your hands up to your neck, trying to claw at the skin to make way for you to breathe. Pope’s hands gently grabbed yours, moving them away from your neck and holding them in your lap. JJ gave him a thankful nod and he situated himself in front of you.

“Christine-” Your body flooded with guilt and sadness for your stepmom, that was her son. He may have done unspeakable things to you and her family but that was her son. And you killed him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh,” JJ was quick to stop the terrible thought. “You had to, okay? She’ll understand. Just focus on me, baby.”

You nodded and squeezed Pope’s hands, focusing your eyes on JJ’s.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. Just a couple more minutes, okay?”

You nodded again. The pain in your collarbone was beginning to worsen as your shock wore off and you whimpered.

Great, you thought, another fucking injury to make my life even better.

Really your whole body hurt, your concussion and bruises worsening and stitches ripping open from Rafe tackling you to the ground.

“It hurts.” You whine, a single tear escaping from your eye, JJ wiped it before it could run down your face. “I know.” He whispered. “I know, my love, I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead on yours, trying his best to give you as much comfort as he could without pulling you against him and driving the blade further in.

“Fuck, you guys. We didn’t get a recording.” Kie said, slapping her palm against her forehead. You removed one hand from Pope’s and worked through your pain and brought your phone out of your back pocket, tossing it on the ground, not having enough strength to hand it to her.

John B picked it up and smiled, your phone had been recording the entire time, starting just a minute after Tyler made himself known at the Chateau.

“(Y/n), you magnificent kook.” John B said, giving your arm a squeeze. You had moved your forehead to rest on JJ’s shoulder, your body posed awkwardly to avoid the knife being touched, one hand still in Pope’s.

Everyone was relieved, but the dead body in their presence and the knife in your body made it hard to be completely relieved. Once the paramedics and police arrived, JJ had to release you from his hold, watching the paramedics put you on the gurney and load you in the back of the ambulance, by yourself, for the second time.

Kiara and Pope were talking to the police, showing them the proof on your phone and the gun and walking them through everything that happened while JJ watched the ambulance drive away, as soon as it was out of sight he broke down, John B quick to pull his friend into his arms, Sarah gently leaned her head on his back, her hand coming up to stroke his back

“She doesn’t deserve any of this.” JJ cried, holding onto his best friend. He knew you were gonna be okay, the paramedics said the knife would be easy to remove and they could stitch up the wound easily, but he was worried about you. You would never be the same.

“She doesn’t.” John B agreed.

“I just want her to be okay.”

“I know, bubba, me too.” John B replied, his own tears brimming in his eyes, “She will be.”

JJ could feel Sarah shaking against him, her tears wetting his shirt and he unravelved in arm from John B to bring her into the hug. “Get in here, kook princess.” JJ teased through his tears. Pope and Kiara soon joined the group hug, comforting their friends through touch.

“What did Shoupe say?” JJ asked once they all pulled away, wiping at his tears.

“They said (Y/n)’s okay, a very obvious case of self defense, but they’re still going to ask her a couple questions once she’s of sound mind.” Pope answered and Kiara nodded.

“Thank God.” Sarah breathed out and JJ’s shoulders relaxed in relief, one less thing to worry about.

“Well why are we all just standing here?” John B asked after a couple moments of silence. “Let’s go see our girl.”

+

“I am still meeeeee you are still youuuuu” I couldn’t get that damn song out of my head while I was writing this

my masterlist 

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[yourstarvic]

A Month Later

It has been a month since the music convection. You barely remember the face of your savior. All you could remember was that he has black hair and was wearing a white mask. 

I can memorize quotes, names, and useless facts but when it comes to faces, I could never remember them.

“Miss Yukie, can you please tell me the answer," the teacher asked you.

Lazily looking up, you quickly saw the equation. "the answer is y= 3(2x+ 1/4)^2-83/16),” you replied as if it was second nature. Not realizing how quickly you responded, you went back looking at the window. Once the realization hit you, you felt your face starting to heat up as your eyes widen. Looking back to the front of the class, your teacher and classmates all stared at you in shock.

“Ummm, I already learned it from when I was middle school,” you said nervously, hoping no one would question it.

The teacher slowly nodded their head and when back to explaining the problem. Letting out a small sigh you went back looking out of the window.

 That was close... 

After admiring the outside world, you looked down at your notebook, noticing that you barely wrote any notes. Letting out a soft sigh, you grabbed your pencil from your desk, looking back up to the board, trying to pay attention to what the teacher was saying.

Soon after, you heard the bell rang, signaling the end of school. Cleaning up your desk, you put your notebook and pencils into your bag. As you did that, Hitoka walked up to your desk. With a surprised look on her face, she said, “How did you know the answer! You weren’t even paying attention! You barely even looked at the problem! You knew it right away! Are you psychic?”

Rolling your eyes at her jokingly, you got up from your desk. Both of you walking out of the door, “I’m not psychic,” you started with a joking smile, “Actually, I’m a witch.”

“I knew it,” you heard her whisper to herself. Laughing softly, thinking it was a joke, you didn’t realize that she was serious about it. 

Both of you made your way to the girl's locker room, talking about what happened in class and what might happen during practice. Finally, in the locker room, you put your bag into your locker and then grabbing your track pants, jacket, athletic shoes, and a white shirt. Taking off your shoes and your socks, you heard the door opening, seeing Kiyoko walking in.

“Hi, Kiyoko! Ready for practice?” you heard Hitoka said happily. 

Smiling with a teasing tone, you said, “of course she is! She’ll be able to see Tanaka.”

Both you and Hitoka saw the small red blush heating on her cheeks, knowing that she is trying not to make her whole face red. Chuckling at her, both of you thought, “she is so cute!!!”

“I talked to Takeda-Sensei and he and Ukai-San are thinking of working with serves and receives,” Kiyoko said faking a cough in her hands, trying to not seem flustered.

“We don’t have practice tomorrow morning, right?” you questioned as you put on your pants.

 “Yes, we only have is evening practice,” Hitoka said, changing into her shirt.

Nodding your head, you started to change into your shirt as well, as you did so you heard Kiyoko questioned you and Hitoka, “how is tutoring Hinata and Kageyama?”  

“Kageyama is getting better but still has a little more way to go,” Hitoka said thoughtfully, “hows Hinata with English, (y/n)?”

Looking at both of them, you respond with a happy smile, “he is getting better! He just needs to work on his spelling a bit! He will be fine for the exam!”

Kiyoko nods her head, happy that the two trouble first years are getting better with their studies.“Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you speak fluent English (y/n),” Hotoka said, putting a finger on her chin, thinking deeply, “you used to live in New York right?”

A bashful smile made its way to your lips as you replied, “yeah...” you chuckled shyly, “I used to live in New York for a while.”

Seeing Hitoka eyes light up with stars and Kiyoko eyes filled with curiosity, they both asked: where did you live before? Why move here in Miyagi? How was living in New York? But most of the questions were mostly from Hitoka.

With amusement in your voice, you answered, “I lived in London for a bit and some other places as well. I loved living in New York but I wouldn't say it is my favorite. And I moved here because um...” you hesitated, thinking of an answer that won't reveal too much about yourself, “my parent's job?”

Both eyed you in confusion as to why you question your reasoning. But then shrugging it off, thinking nothing of it. 

Wanting to know more, Kiyoko asked, “where do your parents work?”

Trying to think of an occupation, you stuttered out, “um.. y-you know..they w-work as a-an..accountant?” 

That seems like a good job. No one ever questions an accountant. Accountants are boring...Well, I think they are boring...

“Yeah! They are accountant!” you said more confidently, hoping they believed it.

 You quickly closed your locker, giving them a big smile, trying not to seem nervous. Thankful they nodded their heads, not questioning it and finishing getting dressed. 

After you were all dressed, you all started to head towards the gym, but not without getting the towels, filling the water bottles, and getting the practice jerseys. As you three did that, you all talked about anything that came to mind. Finally, walking in the gym, seeing the boys messing around, or already starting to stretch. Before any of you, three could greet them, you heard two boys yell, “Kiyoko! You're here!”

Seeing both Tanaka and Noya jumping towards Kiyoko, you were surprised at how high they could jump.

If only they could jump that high during a game...

Kiyoko quickly moved out of the way, making the two chaotic athletes landing on their face. Kiyoko walked past them as if nothing had happened, Hitoka just walked pasted them with a concerned look on her face, when you went up to them asking if their face was alright. Instead of answering, they got up, holding their hands together, sticking their butt out and swaying it side to side like a tail, with heart eyes, they both said, “I love it when she ignores us.”

Laughing at their enthusiasm, you walked to the bench and helped set up the towels and jerseys. Hearing Ukia walking in, everyone looked at him, waiting for orders. “Today, we are going to practices our serves and receives. Then, we’ll do a little practice match,” he yelled, making sure everyone heard. 

Everyone yelled out in excitement, ready to practice. Except for Hinata who, not only yelled out but jumped with his arms and legs out, hitting Kageyama. 

Yelling out in pain, Kageyama said “Boke Hinata Boke!”

And with that, the practice started.

Waking up to the sound of your alarm, you reach your hand over, lazily trying to turn it off. Sitting up, you used one hand to rub your eye, trying to get the sleepness out. Moving to the side of the bed, making your feet touching the floor, you stretched out your arms, letting out a random noise as you did so. As you were getting out of bed, you turned on the lamp that sat on your night table. 

Walking into your bathroom, you started doing your morning routine. Once you were done, you walked back to your bed and started making it. Finishing, you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, you saw it was 1:14 am. Thinking out loud, you said, “we don’t have to be at school until 4...So...ummm maybe take a shower?” 

Scratching your head, you looked around your room. Your eyes landed on the opening that leads to the bathroom, and right across from it, your walk-in closet. Seeing an empty luggage bag and a duffel, you quickly made your decision, “a warm shower sounds nice.”

After your “quick” shower, you put on a pair of athletic leggings and a random shirt. Looking at your phone, you checked the time, 2:05 am. You eyed your empty luggage. Biting the inside of your cheek, you slowly walked towards your closet. “Might as well start packing,” you said softly.

Finished packing, you doubled checked everything, making sure you have everything. Making sure your morning routine, extra sets of clothes, undergarments are in your suitcase when the small medical stuff for the boys was in the duffel. 

Going back to your nightstand, you grabbed your phone, checking the time once again. “Alright!” you cheerfully said, “it only took me 30 minutes to pack. New Record.”

Unplugging your charger from the socket, you hold onto both the charger and your phone in one hand. Instantly walking towards your desk, you grabbed your notebook and pencil bag. Walking back to your closet entrance, you put the notebook and pencil bag carefully into the duffel bag. 

Swinging the duffel bag over your shoulder, pulling the suitcase behind you as you head out. Turning off the lights in your room and closing the door behind you, headed towards the front of the house. Putting on your shoes, thinking of anything else you missed. With nothing coming into mind, you grab the keys sitting on the table near the front door. Opening the front door, you looked behind you, feeling the dark and empty the penthouse.

“I’m leaving now,” you said halfheartedly, with a sad smile.  

If only there was someone to say, “be safe.”

Masterpost - Prev - Next

Notes: So.... seems like (y/n) is hiding somethin and she’s kinda lonely :( But all will be revealed soon! I hope you guys are liking it so far!! Sorry for the typos and terrible grammer!! If you want to be add to the taglist just click on that link!!! 

Fun Facts:

(Y/n) is considered a genius in the academic world and in the fine arts world. She tones it down, fearing people would ask her to do their homework.

One time a guy was bothering Hitoka and asking for her number. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima saw and quickly saved her.

(y/n) has two older brothers who are twins. She never mentions them because they are the most embarrassing people ever.

To get back at Kageyama, Hinata styled his hair the same as him. There was a lot of gel involved.

Ever since the 3rd grade, (y/n) learned how to live by herself. She spent most of her childhood reading different genres of books, ranging from kid's stories to medical books.

Taglist: @wickedgamesoyaoya @bloody-bella @mangotacoluverz @weebartistinc

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.5

masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: from 14 year old me babey

warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing

summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.

a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--

this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok 

anywayssssssss

tags tags tags  @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 4.6k (;))

song recs: 

strawberry blonde -- mitski 

in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay

wishes -- beach house

ode to artifice -- samia 

pink in the night -- mitski

enjoy <3

The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.

“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?” 

Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty. 

How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.

“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”

“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”

“And it means that I’m…?”

“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”

Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.

“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.” 

He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was. 

Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.

“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.

“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”

She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”

Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok.”

oOo

 There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks. 

You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes. 

Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.

By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.

“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.

“Er...yeah.”

“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”

“But, Li-”

“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.” 

“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.” 

“But you’re not related!”

“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!” 

Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”

Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”

Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about. 

“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.

“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!” 

“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.” 

“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”

Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.

“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.” 

 He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”

Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.

She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut. 

“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”

“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”

“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?” 

Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”

“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.” 

Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”

“I guess so. He is pret--”

“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison. 

oOo

“Thoughts, king?” 

“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”

“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned. 

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.

The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it. 

Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?” 

“Who told you about that?” 

“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”

“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.” 

“What?”

“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”

“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”

A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially. 

“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.” 

“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”

The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”

“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”

He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed. 

“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?” 

“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”

“Why only one?”

“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”

“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”

“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”

“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are they nice?”

“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”

She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”

The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.

oOo

School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that. 

The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again. 

It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…

But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually. 

“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.

“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”

“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”

“Again?”

“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”

“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”

“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”

“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”

Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”

“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”

“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”

“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.

Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”

“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”

“You’re sleeping with Draco?” 

Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth. 

“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”

Sylvia’s smirk widened.

“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.

“Jealous, huh?”

“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”

She just raised an eyebrow and smiled. 

The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.

“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”

He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”

“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”

“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”

“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”

“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?” 

Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.

He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”

Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”

She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”

“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”

“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.” 

The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”

“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”

“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.

“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”

The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going. 

“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs. 

“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.

Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.

“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”

She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”

Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light. 

To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all. 

“It looks cool, open it u--”

“No!”

Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”

 “Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone. 

Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?

She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was. 

Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely. 

Draco was crying.

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 15

Three in a row. I’m on fire tonight. 

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Part 12 Part 13

part 14

Damienette arranged marriage: part 15

NEXT

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

Damian slowly approached and took Marinette’s hand. He leaned over so their faces were only centimeters apart.

“I am sorry.’

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

Damian hesitated. He still was not sure of this. Back in the league his grandfather always told him that emotions are for weak. Kissing someone like that was just a tool to exploit them. His mother had a bit more… romantical approach. That this is part of loving someone and a symbol of commitment. Of course he was five back then so she probably spared him some details. But this was only reinforced when he left the league. It was always symbol of affection and girls at school kept babbling about how magical it would be. He never bothered to really listen, but he did suddenly remember all the talking. And there was Marinette.

She told him that she didn’t like being kissed. There was this one instance with Felix where she legitly punched him. She told him that she was waiting with her first kiss for the right moment. Well, she admitted she had to kiss Chat Noir once to save him, but it was just a peck on the lips. That would work… Just a peck… But he still couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to ruin it for her. Damian, deep down, wanted it to be mutual thing. 

In the far corner of the room, Tikki, Ryuko, Viperion and Jon stood awkwardly. It was like watching Sleeping beauty, especially with Marin in this dress and her hair low. But the image was broken by her pain, so visible on her face, and the eerie green glow around her chest. Also, all except Tikki were silently processing other revelations. Excuse us, what the hell?

Damian finally straightened. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to. He wanted to ease her pain so much. But he could not do it that way. He had to do it, but his whole body rebelled against him. He knew her for twenty-four hours and she already meant to him more than he would ever admit. Maybe it was because they were married, but she did not treat him like anyone but himself. She did not distinguish between Robin, Wayne, Al Ghoul. She just saw Damian. And she gave him a chance. She opened in front of him and he was not about to abuse this. He didn’t want to be like Chat d’Amour who just saw her as his property. She should be allowed to make the choice herself and not be forced.

“You need to do it.” Tikki finally urged him. “She is so much pain. I don’t know how long her heart will survive.”

Damian sighted. He leaned again and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I am so sorry.”

He was about to kiss her properly when suddenly her face turned from the expression of pain into… calmness. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at surprised Damian with recognition. Tears formed in her eyes.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t want to kiss him. I swear. I tried to stop him but he was just so strong…” 

“What are you talking about?” Damian asked bewildered

“Chat… He… he kissed me… And then there was the pain. And all the time this scene kept replaying in my mind… I am so sorry…”

Damian pulled her into tight hug and started to whisper to her ear. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was not your fault and I would never blame you. I am the one who should be sorry for what my mother did to you…” All the time, he kept stroking her hair, smoothening them after they turned into the mess when she wriggled from pain. 

“B-but… I… He… We… You…” She couldn’t form an intelligible sentence at the moment. 

“I do not care. It was not your fault. You did your best I’m sure.”

They sat there in peace. It was surprising for everyone gathered (including now awake Chloe who was still trying to process everything that happened. Given the amount of news and emotions in one day, she was doing fine. Finally, Marinette stopped crying. 

“If you say ‘I’m sorry again’, I will go out there and not come back before I bring you skin of that envious bastard.” He threatened. “You are not at fault and I will not let you blame yourself.” He said in stern voice.

“T-thank you... “ She said weakly. 

“Now we have to sort out a bit of a mess that formed.”

“What mess?” Marinette asked curiously. 

“You are Ladybug…” Chloe stated, finally regaining the ability to speak. She still sounded like she was not fully there. “You are married. Your husband is Damian Wayne. He is also Robin. You are Ladybug!” The last sentence was shouted.

Kagami looked around and decided that secret identity was not as important as comforting her only friend. “Longg! Open Sky!” The Kwami left her choker and floated next to Tikki. “Mari-san. I honestly have no words to even start describing this situation, but I trust your judgement.” The fencer then turned to Damian. “That being said, I feel obliged to challenge you to a duel to test your worthiness to court my friend.”

“I like her.” Chloe commented. 

Luka also decided to just drop his costume. “Sass! Scales rest!” He was now dressed in his usual garments. “I would challenge you for a duel as well, but I think if you can beat Kagami then I will pose no challenge. Beware the Sabine though.” He half-joked, half warned the poor boy.

“Can we tell them everything?” Damian asked, looking at Marinette.

“I… Fine…”

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

When they finally sorted this mess out and left, they decided to take a stroll through the park. 

“I… thank you.” She finally said after walking a bit in silence. “I just… I mean we… And he… You… we… Ugh! Why is this so hard!” Marinette threw her hands up in the air and accelerated the pace until Damian stopped her and cupped her hands with his.

“tt. You did nothing wrong. You are perfect to me. My own Angel.” He said, trying to comfort her. 

“You… You think I am an Angel?” She asked shyly.

“You know how my brothers call me demon spawn. I… Earned this. I was awful. And it didn’t help that others always saw me as either Robin, Wayne, Al Ghoul or just Demon Spawn. You just saw me as Damian. I should be the one thanking you.” He said honestly.

Marinette blushed, becoming the color of her dress. THey just stood there as the sun set behind the buildings.

“Just to be clear. I do not care if he kissed you. It was wrong and I will still skin him alive for that.” Receiving a glare from her he huffed, but continued. “But I want to make sure that you understand. You are not the one to blame. If he tries something like this again, there will be no place in heaven, hell or earth that he will hide. That I can promise to you.”

Marinette was silent, taking his words in. A smile was plastered on her face. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you. I…”

“Shhh. I know. I am also happy.” He paused for a moment. “But if we already revealed the marriage to your friends, I think it is time to reveal it also to your parents.” He stated. “Otherwise they might learn from a different source and I do not wish to be at war with them.

Marinette agreed and they walked back to the bakery, hand in hand. They entered and Marinette led him to the living room. She could hear the talking and got curious, but shrugged it off as a TV playing.

“Maman! Papa! I am home! There is someone I wanted to intro…” She walked into the living room, still holding Damian by his hand. The sight was as scary as it was amusing.

Sabine was standing next to Talia Al Ghouls who sitting there… tied with heavy ropes. 

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 4, Ch. 1

PART 4: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE HAS A CRUSH Chapter 1 - Not-so-Muggle Charlie

Charlie

When Penny invited us to her house for the Summer and Nova received the letter from her aunt saying I could tag along, I thought this was going to be the best Summer ever. I don't recall the last time I didn't spend it at the Burrow and I was wondering who was taking care of my younger siblings as Bill was in Egypt and I was as far away from whatever Fred and George had in store this Summer as I could possibly be.

Going to Scotland with Nova was one of the best things that have ever happened to me. Not only did we finally have the opportunity to spend time with each other without worrying about homework or exams but like Nova did two years in a row, I witnessed a birth of an Abraxan now too!

She was right when she said that there was a lot of blood and to be perfectly honest as much as I enjoyed being a part of it, I don't think I ever want to see that again. The baby Abraxan was a boy and to make things even more exciting for me, Nova's aunt let me name him.

I think Nova was not as surprised as her aunt was when I named the Abraxan Dragon. She simply laughed it off and said that she had a hunch I might pick a name like that. Her aunt, on the other hand, couldn't wrap her head around why would I name a creature after another creature.

They also introduced me to Angel, who was now fully grown and showed just how much he missed Nova as he bowed to her immediately, wanting to give her a ride. It took me several weeks to achieve the level of trust she had with him and after swearing to her aunt that we will not tell our parents about it, did I get the green light to train him for our first flight.

I know it wouldn't be a complete dream come true as I always dreamt of how it would be like if I flew on a Dragon but I decided to close my eyes while flying and imagine I was doing it anyway. At least I was flying.

As much fun as Scotland was for me, I couldn't say the same for Nova. She was having fun and she was just as happy to spend more time with me as I was, but in the middle of our stay, she got a letter from her dad, saying that they found a new ancient tomb and due to the amount of work and taking care of his interns, he won't be able to see her at all this Summer.

To make matters worse, her mum couldn't get as much time off as she expected she would so they couldn't make arrangements to go and see her dad and Bill in Egypt. I decided to send an owl to my brother, asking him if he could report as much back to me as possible so that Nova would know her dad was alright and I also asked him if he could send us pictures so that Nova would at least get to see her dad that way.

Bill, of course, was having the time of his life. At first, he thought that the internship would be dull, some assistant work for the Curse Breakers, no action and adventure. But just after the first letter he sent home, we found out just how wrong he was. Apparently, Nova's dad was not joking around. After a brief introduction, he took them straight into a tomb and started showing them how they study and translate runes, a proper way to handle any sort of bottles found inside, and what to do in case things go wrong. He was ecstatic and I had a feeling Nova won't stop hearing 'thank you' from him all year round when we return to school.

—

My Summer changed drastically when the time to go to Penny's finally arrived. Their home was rather big but really confusing. It was as if it was a wizard's house but they tried to hide all things magical. They had something called a telly, which along with sound produced moving images, and every night after dinner we all sat in front of it and watched a movement, or something like that, I forgot the name.

We only had a Wireless at home and that was mostly so mum could listen to the news while she was cooking or knitting and for her to listen to her favorite singer Celestina Warbeck to which she sometimes made us dance along with her and sing the chorus of her favorite song, which of course we knew by heart but liked to pretend we didn't as none of us were rather good at singing.

It was normal that with all Nova, Penny, and I had to do around the house, we had to do it without magic as we weren't of age yet, but I couldn't understand why her mother was doing the same. Cooking using spatulas, using a sponge to clean the dishes. She liked to make things harder on herself.

Penny told us it was all because of her dad and I couldn't understand why because he was the most understanding Muggle I have ever got a chance to meet, not that I've met many. He didn't mind when we were telling Penny about Abraxans our first-night having dinner and he even asked me which Dragons am I the most excited to work with when I become a Dragonologist. He didn't seem to mind when Penny's sister broke a vase and their mum used a Repairing Charm on it.

Penny later explained that they were using as little magic as possible to be considerate to her dad's culture. As if I wasn't confused enough, my dad was bugging me, sending me letters every other day asking what new things I have learned about the Muggle world and wrote at least 3 questions each time for me to ask Mr. Haywood.

I didn't want to disturb him so much every single day and I found it rude to ask so many questions even though he didn't seem to mind, so Nova volunteered to help me and write back to my dad here and there.

To make me even more uncomfortable was Penny's little sister Beatrice, who was 10 years old. She was nice and I liked that she wanted me to read to her from my Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland book until Penny told me that she wasn't interested in Dragons at all and the only reason she wanted me to read to her was that she had a crush on me!

She sat next to me at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and stared at me when we were watching telly in the evenings. It was quite unsettling and I didn't know what to do as I didn't want to make her sad or something. Nova and Penny, on the other hand, found it highly amusing and were mocking me and making kissy faces every time Beatrice wasn't looking.

And what's even worst is that I didn't mind Penny joking as much as I mind that Nova did. She, out of all people, should know that I don't have time for stuff like that and that I want to focus on my studies as much as I can to get my dream job. And besides, the girl's 10 for Merlin's sake! I don't even feel old enough to have a crush, though mum did tell me once that girls develop faster than boys regarding these things but what do I know.

I am 14 and way too busy to think of that sort of stuff and to top it all off I was starting to behave rather strangely around Nova. I don't know if it was due to the fact that we were spending so much time together but every morning when she came down for breakfast, I felt this sudden rush of excitement in my stomach, and every time she laughed or giggled it made my heart beat faster.

It was getting annoying and I was on the verge of writing to my mum to take me to St Mungo's to do a check-up but I changed my mind as I didn't want to worry her and I was sure that it would get better once we return to school. It was probably just because I was in a different environment and Penny kept giggling at me every time she caught me blush, it had to be that!

Penny started acting strange one morning upon receiving a letter she didn't want to show to either me or Nova. It looked like she was up to something or that she was corresponding with someone. I have noticed on more than one occasion that she was scribbling something, blushing while doing so and every time their family owl brought her a letter, she squealed and rushed to her bedroom to open it.

Nova reckoned she fancied someone and if I knew more about these types of matters I would say she was right. One day when Penny was still sleeping, Nova and I made a plan to intercept her letter to see what was going on but when the owl came and we grabbed her before she could reach Penny and took the letter, we were disappointed when we saw that Tonks was writing to tell that she will be joining us the next day.

Penny, as clever as she was, knew exactly what we were trying to do and was mad at us all day. When Tonks finally arrived the next morning, her parents delaying her visit making her tag along to see some relatives down South, Penny decided to forgive and forget what we did the day prior.

I was relieved when Tonks was just as weirded out about how the Haywoods were running things. She was so nervous when she saw Mrs. Haywood washing the dishes without the use of magic that she almost broke Decree for Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery to do them for her. I was also happy to see that she would rather play a game of Gobstones outside than watch the telly as she said that the people in the box looked rather unnatural to her.

Having Tonks around made me feel better about my heart racing as well, which only confirmed my assumptions that this was all happening because I was spending so much time in a place where I have never been before.

The night before we were supposed to leave to Platform 9 ¾, rather sad that we didn't get to go to Diagon Alley this year as Penny's mum and my mum decided to do the shopping for us, Penny thought it was a good idea if her, Nova, Tonks and I made dinner for the entire family.

At first, we found it exciting, but when Penny brought out a book with Muggle recipes that didn't make any sense at all, even Nova couldn't hide her confusion and tried to avoid doing it.

“You are doing it all wrong.” Chuckled Penny when Tonks was trying to cut the garlic but her method was not called dicing.

Nova wasn't doing that great either as she took the whole 10 minutes to figure out how to turn on the stove using something called a lighter since to both of our shock, they didn't have matches at home.

I burned the onions because apparently, Medium was standing for how strong the fire should be rather than how cooked the onions have to be. Tonks made the mistake to leave a plastic spatula in the boiling water, as she was used to that not causing any problems to the spatulas they had at home, the plastic melted in the water ruining the spaghetti along with it.

In the end, Penny called someone on a bulky looking thing that talked back to you and it fascinated my dad so much I had to send him a picture of it, and 20 minutes later the doorbell rang and a man was standing in front of the Haywood house with 4 pizzas in his hand. Now that was magic if I ever saw some in their house!

The next morning I heard a couple of familiar voices in the kitchen. I rushed down to find my dad talking to Mr. Haywood not finding it rude to ask him everything he could possibly tell him about airplanes. My mum stood up at once when she saw me and gave me a tight hug.

“Charlie, dear I have missed you so much!” She ran her fingers through my hair, narrowing her eyes as I could already see she would want to cut it before I leave for school. I was happy that she wouldn't have the time to do so.

You see, I didn't want to admit it, especially not to Bill, but I was trying to grow out my hair so that it would look as cool as his. He looked so amazing with his hair and now that I was 15 I wanted to do something to hide my freckled face. Something Nova couldn't agree with me upon as she thought the freckles were what made me so cute and I couldn't make the creatures in my stomach settle down when she said that.

“How was your Summer, dear?” My mum woke me up from my daydreaming.

“It was nice, mum. Had a lot of fun with Nova at her aunt's.” I grinned.

“I bet you did.” She winked at me, her fingers still in my hair.

I hated when she did that. Even if I wanted to talk to her about Nova, I couldn't as she was always giggling or winking at me for Merlin knows what reason! One time Nova saw her doing it and she later told me that her mum was doing the exact same thing to her. She told me to try and ignore it, roll my eyes as much as I could, or simply distract her by asking a question on another topic. I was grateful for her advice as it worked 90% of the time.

“Anyways...” I started to say as I rolled my eyes. “I had fun here too. We watched movements every night on the telly. You know the box I told dad about in one of my letters.” Mum nodded.

“And yesterday we attempted to make our very own Muggle dinner,” my dad turned to me at once, listening, “but failed as we didn't follow the instructions properly and had to order pizza.” I ignored my dad's sparkly eyes. He eventually turned his head back and started talking to Mr. Haywood again.

Nova came down the stairs, making me sit upright, my cheeks bright red, something my mum noticed as she brushed my cheek and mumbled something about how I'm finally growing up. What is that even supposed to mean?

She pulled Nova into a tight hug and started telling her about all the things her mum told her to get for her in Diagon Alley, while Nova nodded.

Much to my displeasure, Beatrice appeared, what seemed out of nowhere, on the seat next to me, put her arm on the table, placed her head on it, and started staring at me. I heard my mum giggle as apparently, she knew immediately what was going on, which made me even more uncomfortable.

“Look Nova, you got yourself a little competition.” My mum nudged her, Nova as oblivious as I was to what that meant.

After breakfast, we said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Haywood, as my parents took the 4 of us to the station. Bill was already waiting for us there, looking rather disappointed that he had to return to school upon having such an amazing Summer already having his dream job. It was also my younger brother Percy's First Year.

Mum told us to keep an eye on him but we already knew that it won't be necessary as he acts like a Prefect at home already. Perce does love the rules and Bill and I have wondered many times who did he get that from. We all know that mum and dad weren't exactly angels at school either.

While we were waiting for students to board the train, Bill hugged Nova twice, making my stomach turn, and thanking her for what seemed like the millionth time this Summer, he then started to tell us about what he has been doing with Nova's dad.

He told us that they visited more than 4 tombs and that they only had a brief introduction before going straight to work. Bill was really proud when he said that 2 mates left as they couldn't handle fighting a Mummy, which one of the runes in their first tomb awoke. He, of course, took it rather well and he was confident to say that he was Mr. Blackwood's best student. He was also proud to announce that he will stop worrying about his grades so much as he found out he is perfectly qualified and will probably get the job as long as he continues with the grades he has now.

Mum was especially proud of him, not only how well he did on his internship, as apparently Mr. Blackwood sent a letter to my parents saying how well they've raised their son, but also because of Bill's O.W.L.s results. Nova and I couldn't help but chuckle when we found out about his results, knowing full well that he overreacted big time when he had a breakdown last year as he achieved:

O in Ancient Runes

O in Arithmancy

E in Astronomy

O in Care of Magical Creatures (even I was proud of him for that one)

O in Charms

O in Defense Against the Dark Arts

E in Divination

E in Herbology

A in History of Magic

O in Muggle Studies (this made my dad tear up, that's how proud he was of his son)

O in Potions

O in Transfiguration

What he was so worried about still baffled both me and Nova as even Percy was proud of Bill and that was probably the first time he ever said anything positive about any of his family members.

We then said goodbye to my parents and Penny, Nova, Tonks, and I started to search for Tulip while Bill went to his Prefect's meeting. Tulip was sitting in a compartment on her own, telling something to Dennis.

I have never seen her face lit up like that before when she saw us. She couldn't make it to Penny's to join our disastrous cooking so she wanted to know all about our Summer. We told her everything, including how Beatrice is planning to marry me which gave her quite a laugh. I, on the other hand, didn't understand why that needed to be mentioned at all. Afterward, we started discussing our Fourth Year. I couldn't help but drift away in midst of the conversation, just when Tulip said she heard that Zonko's has a new variety of Fanged Frisbee's, to think about Nova and just how much fun we were going to have in this year's Care of Magical Creatures.

[gangstalkersexposed]

Truth Comes to Light

Since I was a teenager, I was subjected to abuse by men who manipulated me to trust them.

*This is not an “anti-men” spew/blog. There are women involved, too. But the fact is, these men hurt me, manipulated me, gaslit me, groomed me, and then slandered my reputation with no consequences because no one gave a fuck about that kind of thing 10 years ago. I have spoken with justice departments for the past abuse, I was told I could file a report and have it “on hand” if these people continue to bother me/slander me/gangstalk me. I deleted the evidence, because when I tried to make police reports when these incidents first happened, I was blown off, laughed at, and ignored, by people who are suppose to protect teenagers from predatory adults, and trauma in general. I deleted the evidence because i got sick of being reminded of the pain...if I had hindsight and knew these people would continue to torment me, I would’ve kept it. Never delete anything. And to the 14-15 year olds out there thinking they’re special for talking to an older man...he is using you, he will leave you broken, with no care for you. Do not fall for the grooming and manipulation.

I will not be naming names. For the sole purpose of

1. These people will come across this blog, and know its about them.

2. I am not speaking to them, I am speaking to their souls...if there is any left present.

3. I do not want to fuel their fire. They can feel free to get mad about this, and expose themselves. They will not receive anymore of my energy.

4. If something happens to me, this is public information. The proper Justice Departments know the names of these people. I do not need the internet to go after them.

5. I am not out to ruin their lives. All I ask is they own up to what they’ve done/are doing TO THEMSELVES and STOP doing it. They are ruining their own lives just fine, they are miserable which is why they harass me and continue to try and steal my energy and tear my life down. These people have left their friends to die of ODs, they do not want to be exposed, it is their greatest fear.

When I was 15 years old, I met a guy at a local show through friends. He was pretty popular amongst the ladies, but I wasn’t into him like that. I saw him as a big brother, and he even agreed. One day he offered me to hangout, I accepted. When we got to his house, he kissed me and I didn’t really know how to react. Then it turned into making out, which turned into him fingering me. It all happened very quickly. I told him I was uncomfortable, and he knew I am a virgin and I don’t want my first time to be like this. He didn’t believe me. He over-powered me, bent me over, and raped me. He only stopped when he saw blood, and realized what he’d done. This man threatened my life if I went to the police. He was 20. I was 15. Of course I believed him. This man now has a wife and a child. I wish I had gone to the police, and still regret it to this day. I did confront this man before I got off social media. He told me some man I literally never met, told him that he took my virginity. I quickly realized this man I had never met was a scapegoat for his actions. When I called him out on it, he blocked me. I never told anyone about this, besides recently told a trusted friend, and then contacted authorities to see if there was anything that could be done/if evidence could be salvaged. You know who you are. Admit what you did. And stop slandering me. YOU made the choice to do what you did. I told you to STOP, NO, STOP, NO, I AM A VIRGIN, STOP.

Later in the year, I met a senior who went to my school. He was new, and came from another state. I hungout with older people most of the time, so we ended up chatting. I had a really big crush on him. He was 19 years old. We were in the same friend group on some occasions, and ended up clicking and exchanging numbers at one point. He told me he liked me, and wanted to be with me “but he could go to prison”. We did exchange photos during that time. 3 months before I turned 16, we began officially dating, or so I thought. It turns out, this man never told anyone we dated. When I made it public on my myspace page(lmfao) His Ex girlfriend flipped out on both me, and him, and threatened to send him to jail. He then told me we could “date in secret”...he was hooking up with girls his age the whole time. While making me out to look like a crazy, obsessed “little girl”. Well, you slept with me. You admitted to me that you used me. You even made a tumblr post about me how I was like a “dead fish in bed” because I had told all the girls you fucked behind my back what you were doing to me. I took this guy to New York...I never held his age over his head...I never wanted to cause him any pain. Literally, all I had for this man was “love”, really a stupid girl crush, but at the time it was my perception of “love”. It wasn’t until he made the tumblr post, that I threatened to go to the police, and its because I was horrified he’d made our sexual acts public...let alone sexual actions with a minor. This man then guilt tripped me into how his “life would be ruined” if I were to go to the police. Recently, his friends..who I didn’t know at first were his friends...started drama on the internet..they then doxxed my home address and phone number and called me threatening me under the false guise of one of their boyfriends being a police officer, when he is not (thats a felony btw...oof) If you are reading this, please leave me alone. You caused me a lot of trauma when I realized the truth about “us”, you caused me a lot of trauma when you made that tumblr post about me and made me out to look like a whore. I “loved” you, in a stupid teenager way. You knew I was struggling with God, you knew I was struggling with my family members death, and you sunk your claws into me, and to this day refuse to admit to others what you have done to me, hence your friends targeting and harassing me. You, are a sick coward. I don’t even want you to admit anything, at this point. I just want you to fuck off and eventually burn in Hell like you’ve always gloated about doing. Also seems like your literal, self-proclaimed, witch wife is sucking out the remnants of your soul, anyways. I hope this paragraph gives you a panic attack, karmas a bitch.

When I was 16, one of my friends joined a local band. I did date the one member for about 2 weeks, but he lived in a different state and we never actually hungout, so because of this we broke up. I still saw them at local shows, and my friend was still in the band. I assumed we were all friends/acquaintances, whatever. One day around 5-6PM, the one guy texts me and invites me out to a local show, he is covering for the drummer in his friends band. He assured me everyone else would be there, and he could give me a ride home. Once I arrived, he told me their set was over and tossed his bracelet on to the ground, and told me to “pick it up if I wanted to get in for free”. I asked him if that was a joke, and he said no. Things got very awkward, and tense..and they told me they wanted to get going. They then tell me, if I want a ride home, I would have to give them both blowjobs. I thought it was a joke. Until they actually left me there. Two weeks later, the one guy names a song after me, and told everyone it was about me. This song, was not written about me and was written about the lead singers ex girlfriend of the other band. I want to thank the vocalist for owning up to the truth, as he thought it was disgusting, too. The drummer, gave it a malicious name intertwining with mine as retaliation of me rejecting him. The bands involved in this were _______ pending legal consequences* I am also speaking to a lawyer about suing for slander, sexual harassment, endangerment of a minor (the one guy was 18), and emotional/mental abuse. If you guys are reading this, enjoy being extradited to my state for court. Once/If that is settled I will be posting their full names and court documents. If you are reading this, and want to avoid court, admit to what you have done. I will not hold it over your head in a legal manner. I will accept your apology, as long as you make it public like you made my slander and harassment and trauma, I had to relive that night everytime someone mentioned that band title. You two, hurt me that night. You knowingly lured me out to a show, in attempts to get sexual favors from me so I could get a ride home. The friends I met with after you left me for saying No, have also written statements against you both. The choice is yours.

I will stop here for tonight. For the next story is a long, complicated rollercoaster.

To give you a summary:

I met this man in 9th grade, and we were on & off from my sophomore year until late 2016, when I finally left him for becoming physically abusive. It is a long, long story. To this day, he attempts to torment me, and literally gang stalks me through his groupies, who are mostly women (jezebels)

Read my stories. Share them. Learn from them. Don’t do what I did. If you ever come across people like this, cut them off with no explanation. These people will gaslight you, manipulate you, torment you, feed you drugs, and try and drive you to suicide. They will do everything they possibly can to not be exposed once you see who they truly are,so don’t let them know you know, and just quietly walk away.

[stahlop]

Making a Memory (1/?)

Well here it is! My submission for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. This idea has been in my head since last summer, but I didn't have the motivation to tackle it until this year. All I knew is that I wanted some form of The Parent Trap but I didn't like the idea of Emma and Killian being divorced, and then this is what it became.

Just a warning, there is nothing supernatural for the first few chapters.

Thank you so much to @profdanglaisstuff and @thisonesatellite for being my betas and for helping me come up with ideas for this since last summer. And to @mariakov81 for also helping with ideas and for the lovely artwork you gifted me for my birthday inspired by this story.

Thank you @gingerchangeling for the amazing artwork you made for this fic! I love it so much

Summary: Hope Swan and Alice Jones meet at summer camp and immediately realize two things: they look exactly alike and they don’t like each other. But the more they delve into things the more they realize this is not just another case of The Parent Trap, and that there may be more at stake (and more danger) than they thought.

Rated T (although it could change later on)

Read on Ao3

For as long as she could remember, Hope Swan had wanted to go to sleepaway camp. Oh sure, she’d been going to regular day camps every summer since she was five, but she wanted some time away from her mom. She’d begged her every year, but Emma Swan told her every year that they couldn’t afford it (bail bonds kept them comfortable, but didn’t leave a lot for extras). And every year Hope was disappointed. But this year, the year she was 13 (14 in three months), all that changed.

Hope’s older brother, Henry, had published his first novel a year ago at the age of 28 (yes, there was a 15 year age gap between them; that’s what happens when your mom first gets pregnant at 17, she waits a while before having another kid) and now had a sequel coming out, and had offered to pay for Hope to go to camp. Six weeks away from her mom. Not that Hope didn’t love her mom, but she was getting overbearing now that she was officially a teenager. It was as if she didn’t trust her at all. Hope had asked Henry if she was the same way when he turned 13, but he just gave a shrug and left it at that. Hope figured that being 45 with a 13-year-old and being 30 with a 13-year-old were completely different. And now she was here and having a great time and making new friends (Jen and Bianca), when she discovered the Jones girl.

She hadn’t noticed her on the first day. There were two 13-year-old girl cabins and Alice Jones happened to be in the other one. But on the second day, two girls from the other cabin said hi to her and called her Alice. She’d never seen these girls, since they weren’t in her cabin, but she figured it was the second day and all, and they must have mistaken her for another blonde-haired camper. But then more girls from the other cabin started calling her Alice and one of them tried to get her to go back to the other cabin with her. It was finally at lunch on that second day that she glanced over at the other cabin’s table and noticed a girl that looked exactly like her, except instead of her shoulder-length curls, this girl had much longer curls with purple streaks in them.

Jen noticed her looking. “The nerve of her! Coming here with your face!” She said angrily.

“Well, at least I understand why people thought I was someone else now.” Hope said. Of all the places to meet her doppleganger, she never would have thought it would have been at sleepaway camp. “It’s not a big deal, people will realize we’re two separate people eventually.” She said as she watched the Alice girl laughing with girls from her own cabin.

Except they didn’t. Everyday someone called her Alice and it was irritating Hope. Yes, they looked alike, but otherwise they were very different. Alice was a lot more punk rock, what with the streaks in her hair, the fact that she wore nothing but vintage band t-shirts and frayed cutoff shorts with Converse shoes. Hope mainly wore tank tops (sometimes with an open flannel shirt over it) with Bermuda shorts and sandals. She also wore her hair up in a simple ponytail, a perfect clone of her mother. Except for her blue eyes. Her mother seemed to have no idea where those came from seeing as she had green and her father had brown, or so she’d been told. She was too young to remember him when he died. Must have had two recessive blue eyes finally meet up her mother used to joke. Hope hadn’t got close enough to Alice to look at her eyes, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she had blue eyes too.

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Alice Jones was a bit of an odd duck. At least, that’s what she’d been told. Her Papa joked she had “a touch of the sight”. Alice didn’t think she was that peculiar. She likened herself to Luna Lovegood from the Harry Potter series (minus the radish earrings). She just got gut feelings about people. But running into a girl who looked almost identical to herself at a summer camp was nothing she could have ever predicted. It was unnerving to see someone who looked so similar to herself but wasn’t her. It was like looking into a mirror to see a super serious version of herself. She didn’t like it one bit. And Alice liked everything. Nothing rattled her. She didn’t know why this girl did.

It wasn’t as if this girl -- Hope, she’d learned her name was Hope -- had done anything to her either. Her mere presence just left her feeling unsettled. That touch of sight her father joked that she had been sending off warning bells in her gut that something wasn’t right. But what could she do to avoid her?  Alice thought that would be easy considering the size of the camp, she just didn’t bank on Hope having many of the same interests that she did. That first day, after all the rules had been told to them, they got to try out different specials (activities) and Hope seemed to be at most of the ones Alice had also gone to, and the feeling in her gut grew worse and worse. Like they weren’t supposed to be around each other.

“Everyone deserves a chance no matter what is in their past, Starfish.” Her Papa would say to her. It had just been her and her Papa for as long as Alice could remember. She usually had trouble making friends, being slightly odd as many girls she’d tried to befriend had told her, but she loved making new friends when the opportunity arose, and if people didn’t mind her idiosyncrasies. She’d always loved playing make-believe. She would often pretend she was Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and have tea parties with her Papa and stuffed animals (Papa was always a pirate in her make-believe world though). As she got older she started sketching landscapes and the occasional self-portrait and had won several art prizes at her school and local contests. That was why she was confused about the feelings she was having concerning Hope. She should be forging a friendship with this girl, getting to know her, not feeling like she should stay as far away from her as possible. How many people got to meet someone who looked exactly like them?

“Hey, Alice, it’s time for lunch!” Viola yelled, startling Alice out of her thoughts. Alice usually loved mealtimes, she loved food, grilled cheese and onion rings being her favorite, but that was when she knew she’d see Hope and her stomach would practically rebel at a mere glance at her. She’d been so excited to finally get to go to sleepaway camp (something she’d been begging her Papa about for years). It just hadn’t been feasible on a dock manager’s salary, but this year they’d started a scholarship program and Alice had applied and received it, so here she was. Too bad her camp experience was being ruined by her weird sixth sense.

“Thanks!” Alice said getting up from her bunk and slipping on her worn, pink Converse.

Alice wondered if she would have the urge to avoid Hope the entire summer. That would definitely dampen the camp experience.

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The change from avoidance to rivalry started over fencing of all things. Alice hadn’t known it was Hope that the director had pitted her against, as they were both wearing the required fencing masks and gear and it was impossible to tell who her opponent was. Alice had only recently started taking fencing lessons, something her Papa had wanted her to do, but she’d never been much for physical education or sports. She would have preferred archery or horseback riding (things she was happy she was getting to experience here at camp), but those were a bit expensive. The local YMCA offered fencing lessons for a low fee.

Her opponent was much better than she was. Alice had more of a hack at the other person with her sword approach rather than the correct stance. The other girl had much better form than she did and Alice could hear the frustrated sounds coming from her whenever Alice used two hands on her sword or kicked her opponent away (which Alice knew wasn’t legal, but this wasn’t a tournament and they were padded for goddess sake). At one point, Alice’s sword had been knocked out of her hands and she just lunged at the other girl. Alice knew she wasn’t playing by the rules, but she wanted to win and the fencing specialist hadn’t blown their whistle at her, so she kept on doing what she was doing.

Eventually, Alice ended up on her back with her opponent above her after she had tried to kick her again and her opponent had grabbed her foot instead, making Alice fall to the ground. They had definitely thrown the rules out the window, especially with her adversary completely disregarding the little footwork Alice had learned and doing swishy twists and turns. Bad form as her Papa would say. So, if she wasn’t going to play by the rules, then she wouldn’t either. Alice quickly kicked her knee upward, essentially kicking her opponent in the groin (even though she knew it wouldn’t hurt nearly as badly for a girl as it would a boy), but it was enough to push her back off of her. The distraction was enough that Alice managed to get herself back on her feet and jab the tip of her sword at the other girl’s chest. The whistle finally blew and the specialist came over asking the girls to take off their fencing masks so she could declare the winner and make sure they shook hands like good sports.

To say that both Alice and Hope were in shock when they realized they’d been fencing each other was an understatement.

“That was bad form, all that kicking you were doing.” Hope sneered at Alice.

“Me?” Alice practically screeched. “What was with all the twists and turns? Give you a leather duster and you could have been a pirate.”

“Girls,” the specialist said, trying to regain some control over the situation, “can you please just shake hands?” But both girls refused. Hope shucked off the rest of the fencing gear, threw her sword onto the ground, and huffed off while Alice actually attempted to pull her hand out of her glove for a handshake. The specialist gave a shrug to Alice and picked up the gear Hope had thrown on the ground before announcing that formal fencing lessons would be every Tuesday and Thursday during Specials time. Alice slowly took off her gear and put it in the designated bins. As much as she would enjoy fencing over the summer, running into Hope was not something she was looking forward to, so she decided to try something else to avoid her.

But it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Archery had been the next special Alice wanted to try. And there was Hope, already there with her arrow nocked in her bow and an arrow practically in the bullseye. After a few tries of her own (and almost hitting Hope --accidentally-- twice), Alice realized that maybe watching archery was more fun than actually trying to shoot a bow and arrow. Especially, because Hope thought she was trying to hit her on purpose.

“It was an accident.” Alice gritted through her teeth.

“Sure it was.” Hope huffed, swishing her ponytail behind her and storming off with two of her friends in tow.

“God, why is she such a bitch?” Alice’s friend, Lori, asked. “Anyone can see you’re just not that coordinated.” Lori joked. “Maybe you should just stick with art.”

“Yeah.” Said Alice sheepishly. She put the archery equipment away and headed for the art shack.

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Two days! It had been two days and Alice was already a thorn in her side!

“She’s like your stalker. She’s always showing up where you are.” Bianca huffed, sitting down on one of the benches in the ramada. Hope had needed to be away from the prying ears of her cabin.

“Yeah! Who does she think she is? It’s like she’s trying to be you.” Jen added in angrily, having just arrived from a trip to the Snack Shack. Even though they’d only been camp friends for the past four days, Hope, Bianca, and Jen had quickly bonded the way only 13-year-olds that had to live together could. She handed out packs of candy that she had got for them, gummy worms for herself and Bianca, and a pack of black licorice for Hope.

It was true that it seemed like wherever Hope was, Alice inevitably ended up there too. “There’s really only so many places one can go here, girls. I mean, we only have so many choices.” Hope said, opening her bag of licorice and taking a bite. She still hesitated to be around Alice, but it’s not like they could go anywhere outside of the boundary of the campgrounds. “I appreciate the sentiment though.” Hope said happy for the support. “I know it’s not rational, to dislike someone just because they look almost identical to me.” Her blue eyes looked to the ground.

“Hey, no matter what, we’ve got your back.” Bianca reminded her.

“And speaking of having your back,” Jen said, pulling out a piece of paper from her back pocket, “look at this.” She unfolded the paper and smoothed it down in front of them. It was an announcement for a dance.

“They’ve invited the boys camp from across the lake!” Jen said excitedly. The flyer announced that the dance would be in one week. “I can’t wait! I’ve never been to a dance.” She pressed the flyer to her lips and kissed it.

“Want to get a first kiss?” Bianca asked teasingly.

“What, like you’ve been kissed?” Jen responded back not so teasingly.

“I’ve been kissed.” Hope spoke up to diffuse the situation. She was older than most of her cabinmates, her birthday being in September, only three months away, so she did have a little bit more experience than some of them. Both girls’ eyes lit up.

“What was it like?” Jen asked.

“I bet it was super romantic.” Bianca said dreamily.

Hope, laughed and then cringed. “Um, my best guy friend and I tried kissing a few weeks before school got out. We’ve been friends since fourth grade.” She blushed at the embarrassment of the memory, Bianca and Jen hanging on her every word. “It was tech week for our school play, Peter Pan. I was Peter. That’s how I know how to sword fight.” Bianca and Jen both gave Hope an exasperated look as she started going off topic. “ Sorry. Anyway, he was on backstage crew and we were outside waiting for our parents to come pick us up. I saw my mom’s car and as I went to give him a hug like I usually did, because that’s just how we are, and he kissed me.”

Both Bianca and Jen’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of their heads and they both had the widest grins on their faces.

“So, how was it?” Jen asked, breaking the awkward silence of them both staring at Hope.

“Wet.” The girls laughed. “And weird. We didn’t know what we were doing. And he had braces. And, I think I can wait before getting kissed again.” The girls all dissolved into giggles. “I was really glad I was going to camp for the summer so I wouldn’t have to see him everyday. We both agreed to just stay friends.” Hope had not told her mother, even though she was bursting to. Hope knew that her mother had had bad luck with men, her father on the top of that list, and she really didn’t know how her mother would react to her having been kissed. She had confessed to Henry though. He told her he was the same age when he’d had his first kiss as well, which made her feel better about the whole thing.

“That’s still so exciting!” Bianca said breathlessly and finished up the last of her gummy worms. “I don’t know how you can eat black licorice.” She made a face to show what she really thought of it.

“I don’t like sweet stuff.” Hope scoffed and took a large bite of licorice.

“Whatever.” Jen said, grabbing her trash and throwing it away. “Let’s get back to the cabin so we can figure out what we’re going to wear to this dance.”

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“Did you hear about the dance?” Viola practically screamed as she rushed into the cabin. Alice looked up from where she’d been sketching the view from her window, not the greatest view, but Alice was trying to make her grass look more realistic and less like pencil strokes on the page.

“A dance?” Lori asked almost falling off her bunk to look at the flyer Viola had in her hands. They looked over the flyer as several other girls in the cabin also flocked over to them to peruse the flyer; all of them talking excitedly about finally getting to dress up a bit and getting to see members of the opposite sex after two weeks. This inevitably brought up the girl’s experiences with boys (not that they seemed to have a lot), a conversation that Alice felt uncomfortable with. Alice didn’t have much interest in boys yet (something she was sure her Papa was happy about). She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about them in general, let alone to do things with. She had her Papa and that’s really all she needed. That and her art. Just leave her in a beautiful location for a few hours with a sketch pad and some drawing utensils and she was happy.

“What about you, Alice?” Lori, a bushy haired girl asked after regaling the girls in the cabin with a tale of how the first guy she had kissed had also tried to cop a feel and had only discovered the tissues she’d stuffed into her bra.

“Oh, me?” Alice asked. “No kissing for me. I’m not really good with boys.” Once again, Alice was feeling like an oddball.

“Don’t worry,” said Viola, coming to sit over near Alice and taking her hand, “not all of us are boy crazy.” Viola smiled sweetly at her. Alice’s stomach nearly did a somersault.

Oh!

“Thanks.” Alice said giving a shy smile back and keeping their hands clasped a little while longer before pulling it away to continue her drawing.

Alice decided she would just find a chair out on the patio and sketch during the dance, since (according the the flyer) the whole shebang was mandatory. She would have rather stayed in her cabin during the dance instead of watching her cabinmates flirt badly with the boys.

Unfortunately, the intention of finding a boy to dance with for the night that Hope had been banking on, and the quiet drawing in the corner that Alice had hoped for (and maybe talking to Viola a bit more), did not end up coming to fruition.

It had started out great. Hope, Bianca, and Jen were in their pack and had all been asked to dance by boys in their own group. Sterling had been the one to catch Hope’s eye. He seemed quiet and reserved, and upon speaking to him for a little bit, found that he was very much into science.

“I’ve never been that good with science myself,” Hope told him sweetly when he brought up some experiment he was doing with blue lights at his camp, “but I know crime novels use blue and black lights to find blood at crime scenes.” She said hoping that she hadn’t come off as creepy. Luckily, Sterling thought it was adorable. He smiled at her and she noticed he was not wearing braces, even better.

Meanwhile, Alice had attempted to cajole Viola to come hang with her outside while she drew a picture of the lake in the moonlight. She’d brought some of her charcoal so she was making quite a mess of herself, but she wasn’t planning on doing much dancing or interacting with anyone else. “I’ll come out here later when I need a drink, okay?” Viola had said, smiling at her again. The drinks and refreshments had been set up under the patio not too far from where Alice had situated herself. She just hoped that none of the directors would notice her out here and try to make her come inside.

Alice had probably been outside all of 30 minutes when her gut started telling her something was wrong. She looked up at the sky thinking maybe rain was coming, but it was a clear, cloudless night. She looked over to the refreshment table and saw Hope talking with a boy. That must have been what set it off. She didn’t need any trouble from Hope right now, so she went back to her drawing. But it wasn’t meant to be.

After a few minutes a male voice asked her. “What are you drawing?” Alice looked up to see the boy that Hope had just been talking to looking over her shoulder at the barely started drawing.

“Um,” Alice said nervously, “just drawing the lake in the moonlight.” She looked back at the landscape in front of her determined not to continue this conversation. The last thing she needed was for Hope to have another reason to not like her just because this boy wanted to talk to her too.

She continued to draw and glanced over at the refreshment table to see a few girls she didn’t recognize hanging out and talking, when he spoke again.

“Are you just going to ignore me all night? I thought we’d hit it off pretty well in there.” Alice closed her eyes and gave a nervous laugh. Of course he thought she was Hope. Her doppelganger must have either gone to the restroom or ditched him and now he was out here thinking she was the girl he’d been talking to all evening.

“I’m not Hope.” she said plainly, still not looking up from her drawing.

“Are you seriously trying to pretend you’re someone else right now?” He asked incredulously. Alice rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of this whole situation.

“I’m not Hope. We just look alike. Tell me, how did I all of a sudden get purple streaks in my hair and have charcoal on my hands if I was with you?” She huffed. The boy opened his mouth to say something when the girl in question came out the double doors and immediately stopped at the scene in front of her.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Hope asked, hands crossing over her chest like armor. She was glaring at Alice, like the boy talking to her was her fault.

“I…, I mean…” The boy looked very confused as he turned his head looking at both girls.

“Mistaken identity. He thought I was you.” Alice said finally putting her drawing notebook and charcoal down and getting up from the chair she’d been sitting in all night. Her explanation did not seem to pacify Hope at all.

“Seriously, Sterling?” Hope walked over, the niggling in Alice’s gut getting worse. “You couldn’t tell the difference between us?” Sterling, for his part, had turned bright red and seemed quite embarrassed about the mix-up. “And you!” Hope said, swinging her body toward Alice’s. “I’m sure you didn’t have any part of this at all. I saw you out here before when we were talking. Hanging on every word.”

Alice was very confused as to what was happening now. She’d been sitting outside drawing and minding her own business. She hadn’t encouraged the boy in any way and now Hope was accusing her of intentionally, what, pretending to be her in this whole thing?”

“Look, Hope, I didn’t…” But Alice never got to finish her sentence as she felt a stinging sensation overcome her whole face. Hope stood across from her staring at her own hand as if she couldn’t believe she’d just slapped Alice. Sterling snuck off as the gaggle of girls who’d been chatting at the refreshment table stopped to watch the scene that was unfolding.

Alice held her hand to her face, not believing that Hope had had the audacity to slap her. And at the same moment, rage at this whole situation finally reached its boiling point, and Alice slapped Hope back, leaving a charcoal handprint across Hope’s face. Alice immediately put both hands over her mouth, horrified at what she had done.

“I’m sorry.” Alice said quickly, trying to diffuse the whole situation, but Hope 's eyes were practically black from her seething anger and she grabbed Alice’s hair and yanked her to the ground.

Alice was vaguely aware that there were screams coming from the other participants of the dance. That someone had yelled for the director, Mrs. Hatfield and the director of the boys camp. That Lori and Viola and Hope’s two friends all came out to try and convince the girls to stop fighting. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

As Hope dragged Alice down to the ground, Alice grabbed Hope around the knees, pulling her down to the ground as well. Hope immediately tried to gain the upper hand by straddling Alice and trying to slap her again, but Alice managed to roll her over so she was on top. They both kept rolling each other over, trying to regain the upper hand when they hit the refreshment table. More screaming abounded as the table came crashing down. Alice managed to avoid the punch from drenching her (as she happened to be on top when it came down on Hope), but Hope managed to wrench her over right as the ranch dressing came down on her face.

“Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Hatfield screamed. The director of the boys camp finally managed to pull Hope off of Alice (who now also had bits of chips in her hair), and get the two girls separated.

Mrs. Hatfield had seen enough. “In all my years,” she said, trying to maintain some semblance of control in her voice, when all she wanted to do was rant and rave at these girls, “this has been the most revolting, the most disgusting display of hooliganism we have ever had.” Alice hung her head in shame. For once her gut had led her down the wrong path and she would have to pay the price. “And from sisters who should be leading by example…”

“We’re not sisters!” Hope exclaimed, appalled that she had been brought into this as an instigator. Mrs. Hatfield’s mouth dropped and she looked from Hope to Alice and then back to Hope again.

“But they are, aren’t they?” Mrs. Hatfield asked the two other directors who were assessing all the food and drink that were now on the floor.

“Uh, no.” said one director with curly, red hair  who looked between the two girls. “We have here, Alice Jones and Hope Swan. They just happen to look alike.”

Mrs. Hatfield looked at both of them again as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, but then gave up on trying to figure out why they looked so much alike when they weren’t actually related.

“You two will clean up this mess and then tomorrow you will pack your bags to move into the Get Along Cabin up the hill.” She said firmly.

“But…” Hope started to protest. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself into this situation. The moment she had slapped Alice she knew she’d been in the wrong, but it was like she couldn’t stop herself. Mrs. Hatfield cut her off with a look that would stop the deadliest murderer from coming anywhere near her.

“You have two hours to make this back porch spotless and then tomorrow you will have until noon to pack up your stuff. Are we clear?” She barked at them. Hope and Alice nodded. Mrs. Hatfield walked past the two sullen girls, motioned for the rest of the campers to follow her, and left the two girls on the back porch. Hope and Alice looked at each other, neither one wanting to admit that they were somewhat at fault, and began to start cleaning up what they could. Alice realized, after they cleaned the entire back porch, that her drawing notebook and charcoal must have ended up in the lake during the scuffle.

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

Hope was determined to ignore Alice. Since they had been made to inhabit the Get Along Cabin, Hope had not said one word to her. Alice watched the first two days as Hope would get up in the morning with the camp radio station that blared into the cabin at 7AM, grab her things for a shower (their cabin boasted it’s own bathroom complete with shower, so they always had hot water and only had to share with each other, and not trek down the hill to the communal one), got ready after her shower, and headed down to the mess hall for breakfast. Alice liked to take her time in the mornings, especially since she and Hope had to also share the Get Along Table for all their meals. Luckily, they were able to join their own cabins for daily activities, but meals and free time were all spent together so they could learn to ‘get along’. Alice kept herself busy reading and rereading books she had brought with her, or drawing in another one of her notebooks. The bad gut feeling that Alice always had around Hope had calmed down immensely since they’d been made to cohabitate, and Alice, for the first time, wondered what her gut had been trying to tell her.

Hope, on the other hand, knew this whole thing was her fault but refused to admit it. She was being stubborn (like her mother). She had no idea what had compelled her to slap Alice when seeing the look on Sterling’s face told her that he had honestly mixed up the two girls. She just knew that she was so angry that a boy she kind of liked couldn’t tell the difference between them and it had really made her angry.  She felt that her whole camp experience had been ruined by this girl and no amount of ‘I’m sorry’s’ were going to make up for that. Even if she needed to be the one to apologize to Alice. So she continued to ignore her instead.

Hope had known Alice liked to draw, but she didn’t realize how much she drew and just how good she actually was. She’d been drawing the past two days any time they were in the cabin. After each picture was finished being drawn, she would carefully rip it out of the book and tape it up on the wall by her bed. Many of them seemed to be landscape drawings of a small town that boasted an old clock tower above, what Alice had mumbled, was a library. Other drawings were of people that Hope had originally assumed were in Alice’s life, but when she drew a picture of what looked like a huntress version of Snow White and Prince Charming, Hope assumed that they were either part of Alice’s imagination, or maybe video game or cartoon characters. Hope still refused to talk to Alice so she couldn’t ask her what they were all about.

On the third day of their isolation, it rained. Cold, windy rain that made the campgrounds into a giant mud pit, so everyone had to stay in their cabins after lunch. Which meant Hope and Alice were stuck with each other until either the rain stopped or dinnertime. Hope was bored out of her mind. Unlike Alice, she had not thought to bring cabin activities to do when stuck in a cabin. She figured being at camp all the entertainment was provided for you. She hadn’t counted on downtime due to a rainy day.

It was unbearably muggy in the cabin, even though the rain brought cooler temperatures, the humidity was still clinging making Hope feel hot and sticky even though she had goosebumps. She figured opening the window a touch wouldn’t be that bad, just enough to cool the room down, or at least give her a bit of a breeze in which to lower her body temperature.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened. Hope attempted to partially open the window, but it was as if it had a mind of its own and sprang open all the way. One little tug and rain and wind came pouring into the room!

“Oh, crap!” Hope exclaimed as she tried to get the window back down. A gust of wind and a torrential downpour of rain came sweeping into the room.

“HELP!” Hope screamed as papers started getting blown around the room and her bedspread started to get soaked.

Alice had been listening to music through an old iPod (cell phones were not allowed at camp, and even if they were, the reception was probably terrible) with earbuds in her ears when she heard Hope screaming. She took a deep breath, wondering what had happened that made Hope actually want to speak to her. She looked over to see rain pouring in the window onto Hope’s bed, and her drawings being blown off the walls and getting absolutely soaked.

She immediately tore the earbuds out of her ears and ran over to help. It took both of them, but they eventually got the window down to just a crack, enough to help cool the room but not enough for the rain and wind to get in.

“Oh, no!” Hope said, looking at the mess that had befallen the room. She started picking up the drawings that had been blown off the walls. “I’m so sorry.”

Just a few days ago Alice’s gut would’ve made her believe that Hope had done this on purpose and she would have been seething with anger. But today, today her gut was telling her Hope was being completely sincere. And why hadn’t it been doing this before. Why had she thought Hope was this horrible person after barely meeting her and over a stupid boy? She was 13 for goddess sake, she should know better than that.

“It’s okay.” Alice said, trying to save some of the pieces. She’d try and hang them over the radiator and see if they could be salvaged.

“Did you draw all these?” Hope asked, picking up one of the least wet pieces of artwork. It was one that Alice had done based off a book she’d read. It was Red Riding Hood, but retold as if she were also the wolf. Alice had drawn her with her red cloak billowing around her with a wolfish grin upon her lips. It was a stunning picture.

“Yeah. They’re based on a book I read.” Alice said not wanting to give Hope more information then she’d asked for. Their relationship was tentative at this point and her drawings were a sore spot for her when they were made fun of.

“They’re really good.” Hope said, now looking at the picture of the Evil Queen from Snow White. She definitely did not look like the Disney version, with the high ponytail and low plunging dress with bustier. “What book?”

“Um, it’s a new series. The first book came out a year ago, the sequel should be out right when camp ends. It’s called Once Upon a Time.” Alice gathered the rest of her drawings up from Hope as she explained the book. When it had come out, Alice felt as if someone had reached straight into her dreams and put them on the page. She’d always loved a good alternative fairy tale, but she’d seen these characters in her mind for years. It was like the author had created these characters directly from her brain.

Hope gasped. “Once Upon a Time by Henry Mills?” She asked incredulously. Alice nodded and Hope broke out into a huge grin. “That’s my brother. He wrote it.” Alice almost dropped the pictures on the damp floor again.

“Your brother is Henry Mills, the author of the book I’m currently obsessed with?” Alice couldn’t believe it. She’d almost become mortal enemies with the sister of her most favorite author. Stupid gut feeling. “You must tell me everything you know about the sequel?” She asked, now overly excited.

“Uh, I actually haven’t read it.” Hope admitted. She wasn’t much for fairy tales. She preferred crime and mystery novels. Alice’s eyes almost bugged out of her head at her admission.

“Your brother wrote a book and you didn’t even read it?” Alice asked, appalled. She ran over to her bed and Hope thought she might be ignoring her again, but then she realized she was searching through her belongings.”Ah ha!” she exclaimed when she found what she was looking for. It was a copy of Henry’s book with a brown cover that was supposed to mimic leather with gold lettering.

“Isn’t your last name Swan?” Alice asked as she brought the book over to Hope.

“Pen name.” Hope said, shrugging. She opened the book to the table of contents. She knew it was a book of fairy tales, that much Henry had told her, but Hope preferred reality to fantasy. Something she definitely picked up from her mother. Give her a good crime drama any day over a sappy Disney movie. The first chapter was entitled Wanted: Snow White for Crimes Against the Queen: Murder, Treason, Treachery. Well that was definitely different from the Disney version. The second chapter was titled A Wolf in Red Clothing, the third simply Elf Tonic.

Hope turned the page to the first chapter to see a wanted poster illustrating the chapter title. It was a pencil drawing of Snow White on a wanted poster with her crimes listed below her face. The drawing looked slightly familiar to Hope. Something about the chin, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Henry probably had it around his apartment when he was in the development stages and she’d seen it there and forgotten. But it tickled at her brain.

“They don’t seem to be your typical fairy tale fare do they?” Hope said flipping through to see other pencil drawn illustrations throughout the book.

“They are so much better. No damsels in distress in need of rescuing by a big strong prince, lots of women power and what not. Characters popping in and out of other fairy tale’s stories, and earned True Love’s Kiss. Your brother has a very vivid imagination!” Alice said excitedly.

“What’s this?” Hope asked, flipping to the final picture in the book, a baby being put into what looked like a tree with the name Emma on her baby blanket.

“It’s the whole impetus for the next book! What happens to Emma in the Land Without Magic after her father saved her from the Evil Queen’s curse to make everyone unhappy forever. She’s supposed to be the Savior and bring back the happy endings!”  Hope ran her fingers over the picture, almost as if she were looking at a memory, rather than a fictional drawing.

“Our mother’s name is Emma.” Hope said pensively. “I didn’t realize Henry named a character after her. She’s amazing. Raised both of us without a dad. I guess he was in our lives for a little bit, considering the age difference between me and Henry, but he died when I was two, so it’s just been us and her for pretty much my whole life. She didn’t grow up with any family, so I guess it’s fitting...” Hope said wistfully, her heart suddenly so thankful that Henry decided to name a character in his book after their mother and make her the hero she always felt she was. “What about you, Alice? What’s your mother like?” Hope asked, wanting to take the spotlight off of her.

The smile that had been on Alice’s face vanished. She didn’t necessarily look sad, just void of emotion. “I don’t have a mother, just me and my Papa. My mother also died when I was two.” She took the book back from Hope, closed it, then sat to face Hope. “That’s weird, right? That both of us lost a parent when we were two?” Alice looked at Hope expectantly, waiting for something more from her, but she just looked down at the ground.

“There was a fire at our apartment. Papa got me out, Mama wasn’t so lucky. After that we moved out of Boston to the country. He still works in the city though, he just wanted something better for us and he didn’t want reminders of my mother all over the place. I don’t even have any pictures of her, something about them getting all burned up in the fire. I’m not sure why they didn’t have any in the Cloud or Google Photos or whatever. The only picture I’ve ever seen of my mother is a pencil sketch my Papa did when they first met.” Alice set her head back against Hope’s bed frame where they’d been sitting down on the floor. She glanced over at Hope who was looking over at her with wide eyes. “What?” Alice said, concerned.

“My father died in a fire too.” Hope barely whispered. “Mom got me and Henry out, but she couldn’t get back in for him. And the only pictures I’ve seen of him are from when he and my mom originally met, before he left her the first time. Somehow, all our pictures were lost in the fire, which, like you said, makes no sense seeing as we all have computers and smart phones and what not.” It was Alice who now had wide eyes when Hope looked over at her. “Don’t you think that’s weird?” Hope continued, “That we look alike and that we both lost a parent in a fire and that we have barely any pictures of the other parent. What’s your dad’s name?” Hope asked, all sense of pretense going out the window. She suddenly felt like they could be connected somehow. This overwhelming heaviness had invaded her body and she needed answers that could make it go away. There was no way they had this much in common without there being something connecting them.

“Killian Jones.” Alice answered immediately, because her gut was going crazy, practically pushing her to find these answers. “And your mother?”

“Emma Swan.” Hope replied. They sat in silence, not sure where to go from there. The answers hadn’t brought any huge revelation. Neither name meant anything to the other.

“When’s your birthday?” Alice asked. “Mine is September 27th.” If they had the same birthday that could still mean something. Maybe the reason for no photographs had been because of something else.

“September 28th.” Hope said. They both deflated a little. Until…

“What time were you born, Hope? I was born at 9:07 at night. I know because Papa always reminds me that it was the beginning of this huge lunar eclipse that also happened to fall on the Harvest Moon that year and it was called the Super Moon, so he used to call me his Super Harvest Baby.” Alice smiled at the memory. She looked over at Hope whose mouth was practically on the ground.

“I was born at 12:27, right when it ended. My mom also used to call me her Super Harvest Baby.” Hope paused as if she were thinking of the next thing to say. “This can’t be a coincidence. I...I,” She paused again, trying to get the right words out. “I think we might be twins, just born on either side of midnight.” Hope struggled to get the words out, her eyes now filling with tears at the prospect that she might not only have a sister she didn’t know about, but a twin sister at that.

The two girls stared at each other for a while, not sure what to do with the information that they both felt was the truth. Hope had felt the weight that had been pressing on her lift the moment she had suggested they were twins. Alice’s gut had stopped sending her warning signals too. They both felt this had to be true, they just couldn’t figure out how it could be true.

“Do you think we were separated somehow? Maybe our mother and father adopted us and we’re not biologically theirs?” Alice wondered aloud.

“No. I’m the spitting image of my mom, and so are you I suppose, just with blue eyes instead of green. And my dad had brown eyes, so I know they didn’t come from him.” Hope said, disputing Alice’s theory right off the bat.

“But my I have my dad’s blue eyes, which would also mean you do too.” Alice contemplated.

“Maybe they lied to us about the fire. It seems awfully convenient now that our other parent is dead and all the pictures of us with that parent disappeared.” Alice said grimly. She really didn’t like the thought of her Papa lying to her about something that important, but it seemed the only logical conclusion at the moment.

“Henry!” Hope all but yelled in Alice’s face. Alice looked at her confused. “Henry! He was 15 when I was born. Certainly he would know the whole story. Hopefully, he would tell me the whole story.”  She suddenly looked concerned. “We need to talk to him somehow. I don’t want to freak him out in a letter, which means I somehow need to call him.” She started pacing the cabin. “But the directors won’t let us use phones. Even if we were in better standing than we currently were.” Hope said, getting more and more distressed.

“I think I can help you with that part.” Alice announced as her face widened into a huge smile.

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

It was lunch time the next day before Alice finally clued in Hope as to what she meant. Since they were in the Get Along Cabin, they were also forced to eat lunch at their own table away from the rest of the cabins. But Alice’s friend, Lori, from her former cabin, had managed to sneak a cell phone into camp and was using that to get money, food, and other sundries from her cabin mates.

Alice walked by her former cabin after receiving her lunch in line and gave a series of knocks on the table as she walked by. That was apparently the signal to let Lori know that she was interested in using the phone. Alice continued walking to the table she and Hope shared to eat lunch.

“That’s it?” Hope asked, having watched Alice give the signal.

“Yes. She’ll get in touch with us at some point today. You better have some money ready for her or she won’t give us anything.” Alice said, taking a bite of her sandwich which looked to her to be just orange marmalade and bread. Hope grimaced.

“What, it’s good.” Alice said, defending her sandwich choices.

They didn’t hear from Lori until after lights out that night. Hope’s anxiety was getting the best of her, convinced that her mother had been lying to her about her father her whole life. Alice was taking it more in stride, as she didn’t get flustered easily. That and her gut didn’t seem to sense that her father had ever lied to her, which made things more confusing.

A series of knocks, similar to the ones Alice had tapped on Lori’s table earlier that day, sounded from the other side of the door. Alice knocked back before letting Lori in. Hope rolled her eyes over the whole spy scenario they had going on.

After the door closed, Alice finally spoke. “Hope needs to make a phone call.” Lori looked at Hope, only knowing that she was the rival of her friend.

“Why should I help her?” Lori asked scrutinizing Hope who sat on her bed practically ignoring the whole conversation. “She doesn’t even look like she wants my help.”

“I do want your help.” Hope said with a sigh. “I need to call my brother. It’s an emergency and it concerns both myself and Alice, so name me your price so we can just get this over with, please.”

Lori arched a bushy eyebrow at Alice who nodded in agreement. “20 bucks.” she said simply.

“20 bucks for a phone call?” Hope asked incredulously, but this phone call was important and she really needed to talk to Henry.

“Hey, you took way more than that playing poker the other night.” Lori retaliated. Hope sighed. Lori was right. She’d walked away with at least $40 in quarters and ones. Hope walked over to her bed and pulled out a small box from under it and grabbed twenty ones. She stood up and walked back over to Lori and gave her the money. Lori made a big show of counting the money out before handing the phone over to Hope.

Hope dialed the number for Henry’s phone, thankful that she’d had his cell phone number memorized since she was six in case of emergencies, and praying that he answered even though it would come up as an unknown number. Surprisingly, he answered on the first ring.

“Hello?” Came the voice of her brother from the other side of the line.

“Oh, Henry, thank goodness. It’s Hope.” She said relieved.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at camp?” He asked, and then, “Are you alright? Do I need to come rescue you?” Big Brother Henry, always looking out for Little Sister.

“No, everything’s fine. Or, well….I don’t really know how to explain it.” She paused trying to get her bearings. Alice had distracted Lori from listening in by showing Lori her newest drawings that she’d done since moving into the Get Along Cabin. It seemed that Lori was a big fan of Alice’s artwork. Hope took a deep breath, “Um, there’s a girl here, who looks almost, well no, she is, identical to me. Her name is Alice.” She paused trying to see if she could hear any type of reaction from Henry, but there was nothing but the sound of his breathing on the other end. “Anyway, we have some questions, and, well, I thought you might be able to answer them.”

Henry remained silent for so long that Hope almost had to check the phone to see if they were still connected. After what seemed like forever, she heard Henry sigh.

“Do you have a day when your camp goes into town that I could possibly meet you?” He asked, and then, “Meet you and Alice?”

Hope looked over at the camp calendar that showed all the outings the camp would take during the six weeks. Sure enough, there was a town day coming up in two days. Hope told Henry this and they made plans to meet at a small coffee shop that Henry found through Google Maps.

“Do you know who she is, Henry? Do you know anything about what is going on?” Hope asked, her voice sounding really small.

Again, a resounding silence on Henry’s side. Hope could almost see him warring with himself whether to tell her anything or wait until he saw her in two days, and then she heard him sigh. The sigh she recognized as the Little Sister had won sigh.

“She’s your sister. You and Alice are twins.”

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @cssns @itsfabianadocarmo

[mertronus]

Secret Mission

Chapter 2

Read it on AO3 or FFN

Oh! M for language.... This is Ron we're talking about.

----

Harry found Ron later that evening looking out over the makeshift pitch at the Burrow deep in thought.  Dinner was over and Ron knew that soon his siblings would begin to head to their homes.  Sundays at the Burrow were a treat, but Mondays meant back to lives and work.  Bill at Gringotts, Harry, Percy, Audrey, and Arthur at the Ministry, Fred and George at their famous joke shop, Katie to school (she was training to become a healer Ron learned earlier that afternoon) and Ginny and Angelina to practice with their team, the Holyhead Harpies.  Ron was chuffed to find out that while he was away, Ginny joined Angelina as starting chasers for the team.

For now, everyone was enjoying the last joyful moments of a relaxed Sunday evening.

As they stood together overlooking the pitch, Harry asked Ron more about the extended mission he was on.

"I can't tell you much yet, not until it's conclusion anyway, but I can say thus far it's been a success.  Almost all the suspects for the case have been caught, and no aurors on my team were too injured."

"You were injured at one point, right?"

"Yeah, but it was a minor injury.  I had to sit out a couple days...no biggie."

Harry nodded.  "Yes the report noted it was extremely minor so I didn't say anything to the family.  Didn't see the point in worrying them unnecessarily."

"Thanks for that."

"Were you leading?" Harry asked.  He always egged Ron on about his leadership skills.  Ron, however, still felt them mediocre at best.

"I was, yeah, for most of it.  Captain Ledwig had the final say for all decisions but he pretty much let me call the shots."

"That's amazing Ron."

"Yeah...I mean, we had help.  Amazing help."  A small wistful smile appeared on his lips and he looked away just enough so Harry wouldn't see it.

"Right," Harry said in a way that told the tall redhead that he wasn't fooled.  "So...staying with the team tonight huh?"

Arse, Ron thought to himself.  "Oh, erm..."

"Where are you really staying?"

Ron blew out his exhale and groaned.  "At the Leaky.  I have a room there for a bit."  Harry opened his mouth to say something but Ron cut him off.  "I just need some space, y'know?  To come back from a mission and stay here is just...I just...well, at least for now - a couple days maybe - "

"Ron," the dark-haired wizard said putting his hand on his shoulder.  "You don't have to explain.  I know."

Panic shot through Ron as he turned to him.  "Y-you know?"

"Yeah, of course you need space.  We see and deal with a lot out on these missions, and I don't even know half of what you dealt with wherever you were in France.  Take a few days and decompress, definitely."  Ron sighed in relief, thankful that his brilliant best mate could also be extremely daft.  "Just don't be a  stranger.  Your mum will want to see plenty of you.  Gin too."  Ron nodded, telling himself he would at the least come to the burrow each day for breakfast or dinner...and not just for the food.  "And feel free to pop by Grimmauld too.  You're always welcome.  You can still apparate right in, that hasn't changed.  And your room is always ready.  Sirius saw to that before he handed it over and I definitely didn't change it."  

A smile grew on Ron's face as he thought about Harry's godfather, who gifted his London home to Harry upon his engagement opting to live in a small flat of his own just a few blocks away.  He was always extremely generous to his best friend's son and once Harry and Ron met on the train to Hogwarts all those years ago, Sirius practically adopted Ron as his second godson much like Harry's parents adopted Ron and Ron's parents adopted Harry.  As Ron didn't officially have a godfather of his own - none of his siblings did to his knowledge - he developed his own special relationship with the eccentric and carefree older man.  He would absolutely have to get to London to see Sirius Black.

After a short silence, Ron finally spoke up.  "Harry?  What if I didn't come back?" he asked softly.

"What?"

"What if I didn't come back?  Or the mission took longer than we thought?  You and Ginny love each other.  Why wait for me?  It's been a year and a half since you proposed."

Harry shrugged.  "I just...I can't picture my wedding day without you there.  Gin feels the same.  We're happy to wait.  Pretty sure we would have had a longer engagement anyway.  But..I don't think we'll be waiting much longer."

"Oh?"  Ron raised an eyebrow turning to Harry.

"Your brothers and I slipped out of the kitchen as the witches we all love started on wedding talk.  From the looks of it, Molly is ready to pull a wedding together very, very soon, in case you get sent off again."  Harry ran his hand through his hair making it stick out on all ends.  "I think I'm getting married Ron.  Will you stand beside me?"

"I wouldn't stand anywhere else mate."

As Harry head down the hill leaving Ron after his promise to follow him in a minute, Ron watched with trepidation.

Guilt.  Complete and all consuming guilt.  "Shit," Ron cursed to himself.  "Bloody fucking fuck."  He rubbed the back of his neck.  "M'sorry Hermione," he said out loud.  "I'm so sorry.  I can't tell them today."  He took a deep breath then started the walk back to his family to bid them goodnight so he could apparate back to the Leaky...back to the bollocking he'd no doubt receive...from his new wife.

----

Hermione Granger-Weasley paced room 14 at the Leaky Cauldron, just on the boundaries of muggle London and Diagon Alley, which she learned was Wizarding London.  Ron should have been back by now.  

She knew that his return to his family would be an all day affair, and truth be told she was excited to explore Diagon Alley a bit on her own.  Being a muggleborn witch, she was not privy to England's wizarding community before her parents moved her to Paris, France shortly before she turned 11.  On her eleventh birthday, she received the news that she was a witch ("That explains so much!", her parents had both exclaimed.) and two letters - one inviting her to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one to study at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.  Her desires to both stay close to her parents - her only family - and to become fluent in French drove her to accept the invitation to Beauxbatons.  She often wondered, however, how different her life would have been had she chosen Hogwarts, and was thrilled to finally get acquainted with London as a witch.

And so, she spent Sunday, her first day in years back in London, busying herself by exploring the shops of Diagon Alley, and was delighted to discover Flourish & Botts.  She spent a better part of the day perusing the wide array of books the store had to offer before finally heading back to the Leaky Cauldron with her purchases for a quiet dinner in the room.  

She expected Ron shortly after dinner, but now it was nearing half nine and he still had not returned.

As she sat up in bed with one of her newest purchases open in front of her, she found herself unable to focus on reading for once.  She closed the book softly and ran her small ink-stained fingers along the books cover.  When she stumbled upon "Hogwarts: A History" in Flourish & Botts, she knew she had to have it.  Having read "L'Histoire Complète de L'Académie de Magie Beauxbatons" (The Complete History of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic) several times during her attendance, she was happy to find a similar book about Hogwarts.  She would be able to learn all she could about the school she turned down...the school Ron attended and talked so much about.

When she told Ron that she was in the house Bellefuille at Beauxbaton and explained what that meant, he told her she very well may have been in Gryffindor with him and his best mate Harry.  "Either that or Ravenclaw," Ron had laughed that evening as they stole away to the back gardens of Le Chateau Cache, which had become their favorite spot to be alone.  "Given your obsession with reading everything under the sun you very well may have been."

Hermione and Ron would have been in the same year.  And if she was sorted into Gryffindor...

Would they have been friends? she wondered.  Unlikely.  I was such a bossy know-it-all as a child.  Ron is so laid-back.

It wasn't until she befriended Luc deBlanc and Isabelle L'Amet that she began to settle and relax.  I would have driven Ron mad if he knew the eleven year old me.  He would have called me a nightmare.

Hermione's thoughts drifted to the first time she met Ronald Weasley, just 15 months ago at the start of their mission just outside of Paris.  

A team of British Aurors had just portkeyed in to a secret location in the French Ministry.  They were met by head of the French aurors, Mathieu Besson and herself.  As an intern for the Office of Magical Law Enforcement in Paris, she was to serve as a translator and guide for the team.  She was instructed to be with them every step of the way and even required special combat & protective training as she would be considered part of the team on the mission.

As the team filed into the conference room where they would meet and debrief, the tallest of them all immediately caught her eye.  Perhaps it was his formidable height, or his blazing red hair.  When he glanced her way from across the room, she thought maybe it was his piercing blue eyes.  And when he smiled at the crude joke of one of his team, she noticed the sweetest lopsided grin.  As he grinned he glanced at her again and she couldn't help notice the way his ears turned the most adorable shade of red.  Her cheeks responded with their own pink tint.

It was more than just his looks for Hermione though.  After all, Hermione was surrounded by very good looking French wizards (and muggles for that matter thanks to her parentage) on a daily basis and, if she was being completely honest, the team of nine or so British aurors included seven wizards who were all quite stunning in their own way.  If she was being honest, however, she never took a considerable notice in men.  She dated extremely sparingly and none of those dates went on to be anything significant...she just was not interested.  But there was something about this one auror...Auror Ronald Weasley, she soon learned he was called.  She also quickly gathered that among the British aurors, he was considered one of the best.

Hermione Granger quite liked the best.

In the coming days she began to work closely with the team.  They were brought in to gather up a gang of French wizards who were once aurors and thus, knew the inner workings of the French Auror Department, as well as the identities and secret identities of those that remained.  That's when the Ministry decided to bring in fresh faces from the outside to get the job done, with their secret weapon being the unknown, quiet, plain-jane intern who knew the inner workings of the French Ministry, the country - both wizarding and muggle - and the language, and would guide the outsiders to their targets.

The British Aurors' Captain, a stocky wizard named Captain Ledwig, seemed to give auror Weasley the reigns for the mission, so Hermione found herself working with him directly, much to her excitement.  After several days the excitement drained from her.

Auror Ronald Weasley was the most insufferable, crude, ill-mannered, insensitive prat Hermione had ever met.

----

I won't keep y'all waiting... Chapter 3 will post tomorrow! How does Ron change Hermione's opinion of him? Thanks for reading 😁

[alyss-not-cis]

My Oppression as a Pansexual

Hi there! My name is Alyss, I'm a bigender pansexual, and I'm a Christian.

Being a Christian, my family is extremely conservative. Like, Ben Shapiro conservative.

I was adopted when I was 10, and started homeschooling in a Christian community when I was 11 because I was being bullied in my public school. During that time, I was undergoing a lot of depression and guilt because I realized I started liking girls (this was before I identified as bigender).

In our community, homosexual acts and feelings are considered demonic, as well as mental health issues. I was struggling with both, and became overwhelmingly suicidal because of that guilt. I attempted suicide twice at the age of 11 and my parents never did anything to help me. I was terrified of coming out to them about my feelings towards other girls, so only tried to talk to them about my mental health. They believed that there was a spiritual problem with me, and instead of taking me to a therapist or looking more into the problem, they had family pray over me.

I felt like the black sheep of the family, and stayed in the closet battling my sexuality for years after. Then, when I was 14, I accepted my sexuality as bisexual. I had a few flings with both men and women in the Christian community, and tried to help as many people in the LGBTQ+ Christian community as possible because I had also endured their feelings. Then, at the age of 15, I started my sophmore year in a Christian highschool.

In this highschool, you don't celebrate Halloween, you can't show your knees or shoulders, baseball caps are a sin, etc. I had found a group of LGBTQ+ allys and members in the school and we became amazing friends until my senior year. I had switched my label to pansexual because I had a small relationship with a nonbinary on Instagram (who is still one of the nicest people I have ever met), and had a few fellow bigender partners. By this time, I was at the beginning of my senior year and a lot of people in the school knew I was pansexual.

The school had a VERY strict rule against LGBTQ+ to where you weren't even allowed to talk about it without receiving academic probation. The second quarter of that year, I had a failing grade in Chemistry, so my mother and I were called into a meeting with the school's director and my chemistry teacher. I had already been through this process before, but I had a terrible amount of disrespect for this chemistry teacher. Not only did she make the class about politics (not chemistry, which is what we were PAYING for), but she made extremely offensive comments about the LGBTQ+ community in the class (I was the only student in the class who wasn't straight, and almost everyone in that class knew except for her).

During the meeting, the director had decided to bring up a couple of complaints she had heard about me. One was the fact that I came to school in a onesie (it had footies that were against school policy), and I had worn "dark" make up. Then the last was that I was claiming I was pansexual.

I thought my heart had stopped, and my face went pale. Neither of my parents knew I was pansexual, and now I was being outed at my school in front of my mother and homophobic chemistry teacher.

The next half hour was spent listening to lectures about how I was giving a bad influence to the younger, more impressionable kids at the school and that I needed to seek help. My mom tried to defend me, saying "Well, I'm sure she didn't mean what she said. Right?" And she looked at me. I said no. I meant what I said, and you know what? I was proud of it.

I had to sign an agreement saying I was on academic probation for breaking the rules for the next coming quarter. I was crying my eyes out the whole day, sobbing my eyes out in front of anybody and everybody (making my one-on-one tutoring session VERY uncomfortable for my pre-calc teacher). My parents had now found out I was pansexual.

That night, I had sent out a text to my group of friends about what had happened, trying to seek comfort. They were incredibly supportive, yet very hostile towards the director. I had laughed it off as a joke, and sent a text saying "Put the snitch in a ditch." A very immature comment, and I do agree that I shouldn't have said that.

The next morning, my mother had received a phone call from a detective saying I was under investigation for death threats against the director. I was immediately expelled breaking the probation by saying I was pansexual. All of my friends in that group chat were also expelled and under investigation.

I'm now not allowed to speak to any of them, and was forced to tell my parents I was straight because I was about to be kicked out. I'm now paying for my own education to complete my senior year and have lost connection to almost every person I was once friends with.

My point here is; being a part of LGBTQ+ in a Christian community as a minor is terrifying. I'd heard of many coming out horror stories from people I was close to, and hated seeing them suffering like I did.

I do consider myself a Christian, but you can be a Christian and not be this hateful.

The Bible says "You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others?" Matthew 5:43-48.

Even if we, as members of LGBTQ+, are enemies to these conservative extremists, this behavior is unbiblical. The comment I made in the group chat was hateful, and I repent of my actions. I never should have said that, and I have learned from my mistakes. With that being said, it doesn't excuse the efforts of this school. I still love the people there, and am willing to treat them with respect, but I am not going to ignore discrimination.

My parents have even more oppressive. Whenever I'm around, they throw slurs at homosexuals on T.V., and they make fun of me openly behind my back in front of my younger brothers. They even accidentally sent a message in a group chat that I was in, making fun of the fact that I supported trans rights. And when they found out I could see those messages, they said they were entitled to what they said because it's "unnatural" and my feelings didn't matter.

This past week has been the worst so far with their homophobic and transphobic comments, it's gotten to the point where I can't even wear a hat backwards without my mom breaking down.

With that, I wanted to make this post as a safe space for anyone in a similar place and say that you're not alone. You are valid, you are not "filled with demons", and you are beautiful. I know that pain you're feeling, and I'm offering to help comfort and support you. God LOVES you, no matter what any Church Karen says.

Even if you don't believe in God, you're valid and safe here. You don't need to harbor any guilt for who you are, and you are gonna come out of this a strong, admirable warrior. I love you all, and remember to love yourself too.

Thank you for reading this, and remember to stay safe,

-Alyss

[queenofcats17]

Regrets, Joey?

After the last story I wrote in the Joeyverse FNAF AU, I decided to do another. 

Magenta belongs to @halfusek

Also a brief mention of @insane-control-room‘s Johan and @randomwriteronline‘s Duncle and Malcolm

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

As soon as Freckle’s sister left with her daughter, Magenta returned to the underground maintenance area. He hoped the girl wouldn’t be back. He didn’t want to have to hurt her. Murdering adults and stuffing them into animatronics was one thing. But murdering children? He wasn’t that cruel. 

“That niece of yours is just like you, Freckle,” he said as he entered Freckle’s room. The robot that housed Freckle was smoking in a rather concerning manner, sparks eventually coming off of it. 

Magenta sighed. Freckle had overexerted his body again. He did that sometimes when his emotions got the better of him.

“You really need to stop doing this.” He gently lowered the robot to the ground, leaving and returning with his tools. “Eventually you’ll end up breaking yourself beyond what I can fix. And then where will you be? Just a ghost without a body to possess.”

A black mist rose out of the robot, coalescing into a form that resembled the silhouette of Freckle. His distinctive freckles dotted his black hole of a body like stars in the night sky. His eyes bored into Magenta as he floated above the metal prison he’d been confined to. 

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” he growled. His voice sounded strange and inhuman, as though he were speaking from inside an echo chamber.

“You make it sound like I want to hurt her,” Magenta scoffed. “As long as she doesn’t start meddling, she’ll be fine.” He glanced up at Freckle with a smile. “Remember, you’re in this situation because you went sticking your nose where it didn’t belong.” 

He hated Magenta’s smile. It was too wide, like that grinning demon he was so fond of. It was the sort of smile that made you feel cold inside. It was the smile of someone who had no qualms about hurting you if you got in his way. Which Freckle certainly had. 

“Besides, she seems like a lovely young lady,” Magenta continued, returning to working on the body. “She managed to find her way down here by herself, so she’s clearly clever. I have to respect that.”

“She is clever.” A note of pride entered Freckle’s inhuman and reverberating voice.  

“For her sake, let’s hope she’s not too clever.” Magenta allowed himself a sigh. He couldn’t imagine how angry Esther would be if he took her daughter away from her. He was almost certain she’d kill him if he did that. 

.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Rachel was determined to get her uncle back somehow. She began to go to other locations in the franchise, trying to find something she could use against Magenta. She couldn’t get into the employee-only areas, but she certainly tried. The workers started to recognize her, immediately escorting her out upon spotting her. 

“Why do you keep coming back?” One of the night guards asked. She’d tried to sneak in after-hours, only to get caught by him. 

She’d been caught by him once or twice before and she actually kind of liked him. He was always nice to her and she thought his blue hair was pretty. Although, lately, he’d had really dark bags under his eyes. His nametag said Joey, but he’d told her she could call him Johan.

“I’m trying to find information,” she replied, folding her arms in determination. 

“Information?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, information. Like if other people have gone missing here.”

“Other people?” Johan laughed nervously, glancing at the clock. “You think your uncle’s disappearance had something to with this place?” His voice had gone up an octave. 

“I don’t think, I know. And it sounds like you know something too,” she said, scooting her chair closer. It made an awful screeching sound as the metal dragged across the concrete. Johan had set her up on a folding chair from the main party area, joking a bit that he should put her name on it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Johan looked quickly away. 

“What do you know?” Rachel demanded, getting up from her chair. Johan hunched his shoulders, angling his body away from her. 

“Please...Just drop it.” His voice went quiet. “Mag’s not a bad person. He’s not.” 

Rachel tried for a little longer to get any information out of him, but he wouldn’t say a word. They ended up sitting in silence until Esther came and collected Rachel. Johan wasn’t there the next time Rachel came back. She wondered if Magenta had killed him too.

She ran into other animatronics as well on her expeditions. Most didn’t pay her much mind, focused on other children. She did end up trapped at one point, though, by an elephant and a hippo animatronic who had a sort of magic/comedy show. She kept trying to leave, but one or the other kept dragging her back. She was there for almost 2 hours before a worker recognized her and threw her out.

She did this for months, going to various locations to try and get information about other disappearances. She learned of a few other employees who had disappeared at various other Fazbear’s locations, but nothing that could be connected to Magenta. There wasn’t much information on the people who had disappeared either. They’d been there one day and gone the next. Just like her uncle. 

She was starting to get discouraged and her mother was beginning to get anxious. Rachel’s exploits had to be attracting Magenta’s attention. Esther was sure of it. She didn’t want to lose her daughter and her brother. 

“Please, sweetheart, you have to stop this,” she said after she’d picked Rachel up from another Fazbear’s location. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“But I need to find something to take that asshole down!” Rachel insisted. “He killed Uncle Joey! I have to take him down!”

“Rachel, you’re 14. That isn’t something you can do by yourself.” Esther knelt in front of her daughter, brushing some hair out of her face. Rachel avoided her eyes, staring intently at the floor. She didn’t go to any of the locations for a month after that. 

.

Finally, Rachel decided just to go back to Circus Baby’s. Maybe she could succeed in breaking Freckle out. She could even convince him to take Magenta down himself! He was probably stronger than Magenta as a robot. Satisfied by this knowledge, she made her way to the underground storage area again. Once more, she managed to slip by unnoticed. It was actually easier than it had been the first time. Some part of her wondered if it was a trap. But she didn’t care. 

Her uncle was where he’d been the last time she’d been down there. He stood on the stage, singing and twirling. He wasn’t there at the moment. Probably sleeping inside the robot, she reasoned. She started toward the room, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder. 

“Oh, Miss Rachel. Why didn’t you just stay away?” Her blood ran cold at the sound of Magenta’s voice. He’d been waiting for her. She turned quickly around, her eyes burning with fury. She was a bit taken aback by the expression on his face, though. 

He looked...sad. Or maybe tired. She couldn’t tell. 

“I’m not going to abandon him,” she growled up at him, her whole body tensed. “I’m getting him out of here.”

“You aren’t going to be doing that.” Magenta shook his head, reaching for her arm.

“No!” Rachel jerked away. “I’m not letting you keep him here!”

“There’s not all that much you can do, dear,” Magenta said. “What do you intend to do? Kill me?”

“If I have to!”

Magenta sighed heavily, shaking his head again. “Miss Rachel, this argument isn’t going to serve any purpose other than to rile you up.”

His words fell on deaf ears, though. Rachel’s anger had washed over her like a flood, consuming her with white-hot rage. 

“Give him back!” She screamed. “Give him back! I want my uncle back! Give him back to me!”

“Your uncle is gone, Miss Rachel,” Magenta replied calmly. “I disposed of his body myself.”

“No, he’s not! He’s right there!” Rachel insisted, pointing to the animatronic housing her uncle’s soul. “He’s right there and you’re keeping him here!”

“That,” Magenta knelt in front of her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Is not your uncle. That is a robot. It may house his soul, but it is certainly not your uncle. Not anymore.”

“He talked to me!” Rachel protested, but her voice was getting weaker. 

“He talks to me too, but that doesn’t mean that thing is him.” Magenta smiled gently. “He’s not always there, either. Most of the time he remains sleeping inside that shell. He’s not here right now.” He gestured to the robot, still singing and spinning. 

Rachel sniffled, hunching her shoulders. “I want him back,” she whimpered. 

“Let me ask you something, Miss Rachel,” Magenta said, lifting her face so that their eyes met. “What will you do if you free him?”

“Take him home.”

“And what comes after that?” Magenta asked. “Life can’t exactly return to normal for your family. Your uncle is inside a giant robot. He can’t eat, he can’t sleep. If you go anywhere with him, people will stare. No one will believe you if you tell them the truth.”

“But....” Rachel wanted to come up with a response. She wanted to say something that would shut him up. But she couldn’t think of anything.

“And what of your poor mother?” He continued. “Do you think she wants to see her brother suffering like this? Trapped inside a prison of metal that he can never escape from. It wouldn’t be her brother anymore. Not really.”

Rachel tore herself away from him, scrunching her eyes closed and frantically shaking her head as if that would dispell what he’d said. 

Because he was right. He was completely right. 

And she hated it. 

“Please, Miss Rachel. Just go home,” Magenta all but begged. “Forget everything you’ve seen here. Go home.”

“I want him back,” she repeated weakly, starting to sob.

“I know you do,” Magenta said gently. “But he’s not coming back.”

.

Esther was immediately concerned when she’d received another call from Circus Baby’s Pizza World. However, when she’d picked up the phone, it was just that boy Wally saying Rachel needed to be picked up. She was rather surprised when she arrived at the pizzeria and found Rachel in tears, hugging Magenta.

“What happened?” She asked, stepping into the office.

“It’s a long story.” Magenta smiled gently, handing Rachel off to Esther. “I’d suggest you take her home and let her rest. She’s had a long day.” 

Esther frowned, but took Rachel and left the restaurant. Rachel didn’t say anything until they returned to the house. As Esther was tucking her into bed, she said,

“Uncle Joey’s not coming back.”

The defeated look in her eyes broke Esther’s heart. Just what had she seen in that place?

“I’m sorry, darling,” she whispered, kissing Rachel’s forehead. Rachel just sniffed and rolled over, burying herself in the blankets. Esther straightened up and left the room. Best to just give her some space. They could talk about it later. 

[themoonandotherslikeit]

Something Special

Pairing: DeanxReader

Rating: M

Tags/Warning: language, some smut, mild angst, and some fluff!

Word Count: 6,885

Authors Note: This is a gift for my 300 follower giveaway! Miss @deans-baby-momma won this giveaway! She wanted a piece where the reader is in a long term relationship with present Dean, and he plans a special day for her, with switching first person POV between Dean and the female reader. This is a little outside of the timeline, so lets call it Season 14 post Micheal Pre soulless jack problems. There aren’t any S14 spoilers in here, though, just to tell you where his age etc is. Hope y’all enjoy! 

Her

The sounds of the bunker were lulling me to sleep. The clicks and hums of the air conditioning, the groans of the pipes, and the beeps of the various machines that kept the underground sanctuary running all used to keep me awake. After all of this time, though, they became relaxing. Familiar. 

I had a place of my own, of course, an apartment that I kept around because of some tug in my gut that kept me from trusting people, no matter how much time I spent with them. It wasn’t about the Winchester’s, obviously. It was more about everything else. The life they lived was dangerous, and I half expected to show up at the bunker one day to see it caved in on its self. So I kept my apartment as an insurance policy. That and I hadn’t officially been asked to move in.

I was cuddled into Dean’s bed, because he was supposed to be back any time. Waiting for Dean Winchester proved to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. There was something to be said about watching someone go. He always had one foot out the door and a finger on the trigger of his gun. I couldn’t ask him to stop, to wait, because he was Dean. I knew what I signed up for. So, I waited. He wasn’t good at texting and sometimes he forgot to call. I couldn’t count on both hands the amount of sorry babe, phone died texts I’d received over the years. I’d take that any day over the phone calls from Sam that ended with something happened to Dean.

It isn’t easy being the one left behind.

Him

It ain’t easy being the one always leaving. 

If I was being honest, I never thought that I’d have somethin’ worth going home to, but there I was, tapping the steering wheel and squinting into the darkness, because I was ready to be home. It wasn’t the bunker that I was rushing to. It was her. I knew that she’d be there waiting for me when I got home, because she always was. After I hunt, the sheets were always washed and the beer was restocked. I didn’t deserve that shit, but I did everything I could to try to earn it.

“Dude you look exhausted, don’t you think we should just stop? We can take a nap or something,” Sammy offered from the passenger seat.

“We used to drive through the night all the time,” I said dismissively.

“Yeah,” he snorted. “But that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before you got fucking old,” my not-so-little brother joked.

“If I’m old, that means you’re old.” I leaned over and jabbed my knuckle into his breastbone. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m sure as shit not ready for that.”

“It’d help if you exercised and ate better.”

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose, actually thankful for the distraction since it was keeping me from nodding off at the wheel. “Don’t start with that again. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

“You survive off grease, beer, and coffee. I haven’t seen you work out in… maybe ever? So of course you’re getting winded on chases.”

“I was not winded.” I was fucking beat, but there was no way I was admitting that to him. “I’ve still got it, and don’t you fuckin’ forget who taught you everything you learned.”

“Dad?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet Y/N would appreciate you taking better care of yourself…”

“Don’t use her against me,” I snapped. “Just shut up so I can drive.”

“Just saying, we’d all like you to live longer.”

“Sam,” I sighed. My knuckles were white as I gripped the wheel. The skin was peeling from where my fist collided with a shifter. It was a relief, working such a normal case after all the shit we’d been through. It wasn’t as much of a relief that my knuckles still throbbed hours later, and my right foot tingled a bit from sitting too long in the car. “You know how this ends for me. For both of us, most likely. I’ll go out at the end of the barrel of a gun, some grand explosion, or fuck, maybe Chuck will be tired of me and finally put me out of my damn misery. Don’t think extra bacon is gonna make that big of a difference.”

I hated being that way with the kid, but what I hated even more was being reminded that time was limited. I was always running on borrowed time. I had been since the day at the crossroads that I gave up my soul for Sam’s. I wasn’t supposed to get out of Hell, and the last decade and some change were all extra. It should be easy, looking at it like that, but it never was. If I hadn’t been plucked from the pit then I wouldn’t have met Y/N. I’m not scared of dying. I’ve done that more times than I care to remember, but saying goodbye to her? That was the unthinkable.

We did everything we could to keep it casual. No real attachment. I couldn’t give her something to latch on to, because I was always going. I warned her, there’s no guarantees with me, Sweetheart. “There’s no guarantees with anyone, Dean,” she said with that little smirk where her eyes were wide open like she saw right through me. She had me. I was spent. Every time I came home I’d expect that to be the time that she wasn’t there, that she’d be done, but every time I was wrong. Never been so glad to be wrong in my life.

So when I was home, I was with her. I was all in, and when I was out on a hunt I tried not to think about her. I tried not to think about the risk, about all the shit that I risked every day on the job. I couldn’t, because if I did, then I’d never leave that fucking bed. There’s only so much a man can take.

Her

I wasn’t sure when I drifted to sleep, but I heard the soft sound of boots against the floors as Dean tried to sneak in to not wake me. He was sweet for trying. I tried to stay still as I heard the slow zip of his jeans and his clothes falling to the floor. The bed groaned under his weight as he climbed in and laid on his side facing me. He rested his head on the bicep of his right arm and ran his left hand down my side.

I let out a sleepy hum and scooted closer to him, sliding my leg between his. I wrapped an arm around him and brushed my nose with his. “You didn’t call,” I murmured softly.

“Phone was-“

“Dead,” I finished his sentence. “I figured.”

“You mad?” Dean pushed my hair out of my face, and the callouses on his fingers brushed against my skin.

“At you? No.”

“How about in general?”

“It’s the middle of the night, Dean,” I grumbled, pressing a light kiss to the rough skin along his jaw. “I’m generally trying to sleep.”

He exhaled out his nose, and I felt his lips curl at my forehead in his patented shit-eating smirk. “If you wanted to sleep you wouldn’t be here.”

I rolled my eyes in the darkness and tangled my fingers in the back of his t-shirt. “How do you figure that?”

“Because you knew the moment I got here I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

My eyes flickered up to his in the darkness. “What am I, a mind reader?”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “When it comes to me, you are.”

I laughed quietly and buried my face in his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Come on,” he whispered roughly. “Tell me what I’m thinkin’. I know you know.”

I did. Of course I did. I ran my fingers up his back, rolling them over his shoulders, and finally resting them on his chest. I pushed him onto his back and settled on his lap, straddling him. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his neck, jaw, lips.

“Hit the nail on the head, Sweetheart,” he groaned quietly, resting his hands on my hips.

“I missed you,” I admitted against his skin.

He pulled my face away from his and held it in his hands. “Sometimes I start missin’ you before I even go.”

Then don’t go. I wanted to say it a thousand times, but I didn’t. I kissed him instead, because although we weren’t always good at saying what we were thinking… we were good at that. We talked without words. We said I miss you, don’t leave me again, I need you… We said everything that we couldn’t say out loud, until we fell asleep, tangled together under the thin sheets.

Him

I woke up before her. That was rare. Usually she was the one bringing me coffee and insisting that it’s time for the bear to come out of his cave. How was I supposed to want to get out of bed when she was sleeping in just my shirt? Her self-control was worlds beyond mine. She’s more evolved, or so she said.

I rubbed my eyes and drug myself to the kitchen to make coffee.

“You’re up early,” Sam scrutinized, eyeing me from over his newspaper. “It’s before ten.”

“Thanks for the play by play,” I grumbled, starting a new pot of coffee.

“Figured Y/N would be keeping you busy.”

“She’s tired.”

“Think she’s sick?”

“Nah.” Maybe just sick of me. I hated the insecurities. It felt like I was some teenage girl. I had bigger problems than a girl, right? I pinched the bridge of my nose and listened to the coffee maker gurgle to life. “We haven’t gotten much time together lately.”

“She’s always seemed cool with it. The job, I mean,” Sam commented, laying his paper down. He pressed the crease, folding it back down.

“She is, man. She’s cool about everything.” I picked at a scab on my knuckle. “Even if she shouldn’t be.”

Sam stood up, his chair scratching against the floor of the kitchen. “What’s going on, Dean?”

I sighed. “I guess we just aren’t getting any younger, ya know? She’s gotta want more than all of this.”

My brother crossed his arms. “Did she say that?”

“No, not explicitly.”

“Then what did she say?”

“She missed me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and let out a laugh that sounded almost relieved. “That’s a good thing, man.”

I sighed and poured myself a cup of coffee now that it stopped spitting. “I just… she’s it for me, ya know? I don’t want to fuck this up. We’ve been doin’ good up until this point. I just wonder if she knows how important she is to me, to us. Since I’m always runnin’ off. Man, you know what that looks like.”

He nodded knowingly, and I handed him the cup of coffee before opting to open a beer for myself instead. “Maybe you should do something special for her.”

I let the foam from the beer sit on my tongue for a second before swallowing. “Special, huh? Like what?”

“I dunno, man.” Sam laughed, slapping my back supportively. “She’s your girl. If I help you, then it wouldn’t be special, would it?” He sat down his coffee and grabbed his headphones. “I’m going to go for a run. Mull on that, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said dismissively, frowning at the idea of running. Just the concept had my hip aching, or maybe it was from sitting in the car for twelve hours.

Sam plugged his headphones in and jogged up the stairs. I looked at the beer in my hand. “I bet Y/N would appreciate you taking better care of yourself…” I sighed, bastard, and dumped my beer down the sink. He was right, of fucking course he was. I should’ve done somethin’ for her ages ago. A day just for us. Then we could feel things out, and maybe she will want to keep me around.

Just maybe

Her

I rolled over and almost fell off the goddamn bed. I grabbed blindly for my phone on the bedside table and squinted at the time. Eleven AM? Dean didn’t wake me? I rubbed my eyes and yawned, stretching my legs. It was unusual for him to wake up before me. Mostly because I was used to getting up for work, and he was tired in a way that I’d never understand.

“Dean?” I clicked on the bedside lamp and raised an eyebrow. “What the hell?” I crawled to the end of the bed and let my feet touch the cool floor. My clothes were laid out on Dean’s desk, a sundress, shoes, with a piece of paper sitting on top of it all. I walked to the desk and picked up the paper, it was an old Seven Eleven receipt with something scrawled in hurried text on the back. Just me and you today. Put on the dress. -D

My heartbeat picked up as I ran my fingers over his words. He wasn’t the note type. Hell, he wasn’t the pick-out-clothes type either. I sat down the page and picked up the dress. It was cotton, light, red. It came up as a halter to tie around my neck. I didn’t mean to leave the dress behind, or maybe I did. I didn’t expect that he’d keep it. The memory was seared into my brain. It felt like a lifetime ago that he untied the knot around my neck, kissing over my pulse point, as his hands slid up the bottom of the dress, fingers caressing my thighs, pulling it up and over my head. He just kept mumbling, “Damn it, Sweetheart, you look so fuckin’ good. God, how’d you get to be so fuckin’ pretty? You’re like a goddamn flower. Like a picture. Shit.”

I smiled and pressed the fabric to my nose breathing in the pine and whiskey that was Dean Winchester. My Dean. It still made my heart flutter thinking about it. It was a lifetime ago that I wore it. Surely it wouldn’t fit. I wasn’t that young girl anymore, but I stepped out of his clothes anyway and tried the dress, pulling it over my head. It was snug in my breasts, where they’d grown over the years, but with some scooping and readjusting, I decided that I liked it better that way.

I looked in the mirror, letting my hair spill over my shoulders in the way that he liked and applied the red lipstick that made his head spin. Hell, if we were doing this, whatever it was, I was putting in one hundred percent. Which included leaving the panties he picked out laying on his pillow, because he wasn’t the only one that was full of surprises.

I walked into the kitchen and found another note, this time a bright pink post-it note, stuck to a can of beer. It read, shotgun this one, and meet me at the car. -D The eternal romantic, my Dean. I smiled and rolled my eyes. I pulled out my spare key and stabbed the can, popping the tab, and guzzling the beer down. I barely spilled any out of the corner of my mouth, my lipstick still in tact. Beer for breakfast was a Winchester original cuisine and before I stayed at the bunker regularly, it was the only thing in the fridge.

I took a deep breath, the beer sloshing inside of my empty stomach. I used to be worried about Dean’s liver, but the real concern wasn’t the burgers and the beer... it was the monsters. It was why he didn’t get close, why he didn’t care what he ate or drank, because he didn’t think he’d live as long as he had already. Each day was a gift. I looked down at his note again, swallowing the awful gut feeling that was brewing inside of me. I wondered what gifts the day had to offer.

When I walked into the garage he was leaning against the Impala, with his arms crossed. He was squinting down at his phone, scrolling with his index finger. I cleared my throat and he glanced up at me through his sunglasses. The corners of his mouth tugged up into an eager smile. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

“What’s going on, Dean?”

Even through the dark shades I could see that his eyes were focused on me. “Come ‘ere.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile that was bubbling inside of me. I couldn’t help it. He pulled joy out of me like he was wringing out a rag. One look had it seeping out of my pores. I walked to him and fell right into his arms. His hands landed on my hips, squeezing gently. “Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey back.” Dean nuzzled his nose against mine and pressed a warm, gentle kiss against my lips. It was familiar, like saying hello. “I see you’ve done your note.” His tongue shot out and ran over his bottom lip, as if he was trying to taste me.

“I did.”

“Good.” He smiled, moving his hands from my hips. “After you,” he said, opening up the passenger door.

I slid into the Impala, breathing in the familiar smell of leather and Dean. “Did you detail the car?” I asked, running my hands over the seats. It was missing the ever lingering smell of blood and man sweat.

“Mhm.” He started the car, his shoulders relaxing at the hum of the engine.

“When did you have time?”

“I’ve been up for awhile,” Dean said like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You’re never up early, especially after a hunt. What’s going on, Dean? Is everything okay?”

“What? I can’t do somethin’ nice for my girl?” He shook his head strumming on the steering wheel as we got on the road.

I shifted in my seat, flattening my dress. I turned to look at him, shifting my body so I could almost face him completely. “You can. I’m just surprised.”

“Well, good,” Dean grunted, moving one of his hands off the steering wheel to rest it in my lap. “Because it’s supposed to be a surprise. Means I’m doin’ good.”

I linked my fingers with his and squeezed his palm gently. I reached forward and turned on his music. I didn’t get enough of a chance to look at him normally. The moments were few and fleeting and usually when I looked at him, it felt like he was falling through my fingers like sand. I wanted to pull my phone out and take a picture of him, record him singing along to Simple Man, making my heart do flips.

Sometimes the most mundane things were the most beautiful. When we first were seeing each other we would drive around in the Impala, sing, laugh, and make out. I felt like a teenager, but instead of hiding from my parents, we were hiding from Sam.

“Troubles will come and they will pass. You'll find a woman and you'll find love,” Dean sang out.

I laughed and shook my head. “God, my ears are bleeding.”

“Hey, that’s rude.” Dean pulled his hand from mine and poked my ribs, inducing an embarrassing giggle fit.

“Quit! You’re going to make us crash,” I laughed, swatting his hand away. “You’re a problem, Winchester.”

“You love it, Sweetheart.”

I did. “Shut up.”

“Make me.” Dean winked at me and turned back to the road.

“How much longer until we get to wherever we are going, because trust me I will.”

“Thirty seconds.”

I raised an eyebrow as we turned down a dirt road. “Where are we?” I looked out the window, trying to make sense of our location. We hadn’t been driving for long, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy watching him.

We drove past the trees and pulled up onto the grass in front of a small lake. It was peaceful, blue, with the reflection of the sky and the trees in the water like a mirror. The lake was manmade, with a fake sand beach. “Dean Winchester, did you bring me to the lake?”

“Good, I was worried your eyes were gettin’ bad,” he snickered, opening the door.

I rolled my eyes and got out of the car. “Okay, spill already. What’s going on?”

“Just relax.” He popped the trunk and pulled out an honest to goodness picnic basket. He flung a blanket over his shoulder and grabbed a cooler with his free hand. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“All I’ve had is that beer.”

“Breakfast of champions.”

I followed him down to the sand and he settled the cooler and basket, before laying out the blanket. “We’re having a picnic?”

“You feeling okay?” He asked me, putting a hand on my forehead. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had that beer.” He laughed shaking his head. “Sit down, baby.”

I rolled my eyes, letting out a dramatic huff as I plopped onto the blanket. “Did you cook?”

“Nope.” Dean opened up the basket and pulled out two brown paper sacks. Burgers from Hal’s. It was our favorite place. It was where we spent our first date. He even split his french fries with me. It was a big moment. “M’lady.”

“I knew I liked you!”

“Burgers are the way to your heart, noted.”

I leaned forward and kissed him, running my fingers across his rough jaw. He hummed into my lips, pulling me closer. His hands hooked at my waist and took me onto his lap. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down the center of his back. His tongue ran over my bottom lip and into my mouth. He was warm, soft, and sending chills up my spine. I tilted my head to deepen the kiss, brushing my chest against his. I couldn’t get enough of him. He surprised me. He surprises me every day that I’m with him.

Him

How the fuck was I supposed to focus at making things special when Y/N was sitting on me with that fucking dress on? What was I thinking? I ain’t cut out for this romantic shit. The making her scream out on a not-so-private beach, yeah that I can do easy, but the gooey romantic shit? I’ve never had to do it. I never wanted to before her.

I moved from kissing her lips to her jaw, slow and precise. I knew what she liked. I always thought being with one person would be a problem, that it’d be boring, but I didn’t anticipate her.

We knew each other inside out. She knew me and knew that I liked when her lips barely brushed over my nipples, and I knew right where that sensitive spot was on the inside of her left thigh. I knew shit about her that she didn’t even know. The freckles on her back from wearing a sleeveless shirt in the sun. The way that her nose wrinkled up when she was pissed off. The way that she swallowed so many things that I knew she wanted to say, but couldn’t, because I was always fucking leaving. Sometimes I wished I wasn’t such a coward. Sometimes I wished I could just tell her the truth, what I was really thinking... I wished a lot of things. My lips traveled up her neck to whisper against her ear. “Eat your burger.”

“So bossy,” she groaned quietly.

I couldn’t help but smirk, she was so fuckin’ cute it almost pissed me off. Wasn’t fair, how after all that time she still looked amazing in that dress. It made my head spin. I tugged at the hemline. “You’re usually the boss, Y/N, today it’s me.”

“Mm, is that so?”

Her voice had that low hum that she got when she was getting turned on, worked up, she got it when she was coming undone. Which, in turn, made me come undone. I slid her down to sit between my legs, trying to avoid pressing my hard on into her back, and handed her the Hal’s bag. “Come on, it’s not good when it’s cold.”

“Says you,” she grumbled.

“Oh, shit, one more surprise.”

I reached into the cooler and pulled out a melting chocolate milkshake and handed it to her. “Wait,” she said with an eyebrow raised. “There isn’t beer in that cooler?”

I scoffed with a sharp laugh. “Of course there’s beer, there’s just also ice cream. Best paired with fries.” I dipped one of mine into her shake and ate it, grinning from the salty and sweet.

“Where’s yours?”

“We’re sharing.” I shrugged, shoving another straw into the dome lid. “It’s cute and shit.”

“I’m a grown ass woman, Dean Winchester. I don’t share my milkshakes.” She turned dramatically with a fake pout, before pulling her knees to her chest. Her dress fell down mid thigh, and she stared out at the water.

I wanted to tell her everything. The way her hair fell in front of her face, the smudge of her lipstick under her bottom lip from kissing, and the way she chewed on her straw absentmindedly made me want to say everything. I wanted her to know my fears, the shit that kept me up all night, I wanted to talk about my dad, about all the weight on my shoulders. I wanted to tell her how sometimes I felt like I was fucking drowning, and I wanted to tell her how she was fresh air. She was my fucking life support. But how could I tell her that? That’s just dumping my weight on her. She doesn’t deserve it. Not any of it.

So, she was looking out at the lake like there’s something really interesting. Like I was missing something. “Hey,” I whispered, wiping her lipstick smudge with my thumb.

“Hm?”

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Fish.”

“Fish? What about fish?”

“The lake is man made, right? So they brought all the fish here. They didn’t grow up here or develop here. They didn’t ask to be here, they just are. It’s kind of sad. Tragic.”

She was always doing that shit. Saying something that left me just... empty, hollowed out, and suddenly I didn’t have an intelligent thought it my brain.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, turning to me alarmed.

“Nohin’,” I mumbled.

She squinted at me and shook her head, standing up. “Nope, we aren’t doing this. Me and you, Winchester.”

“What?” I asked, alarmed.

“We aren’t going to not say shit. We aren’t going to swallow it and pout around. I was promised fun. So, I have a proposition.”

I cleared my throat. “Okay?”

“Swimming.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t swim and you don’t have a bathing suit.”

She reached back behind her and pulled the tie, loosening her dress. She leaned forward, exposing her cleavage to me, and she pressed her lips to my ear. “Who said anything about a bathing suit,” she whispered.

Holy shit.

Her

The look on his face was gold. That slack-jaw, wide eyed, love-spell look. I turned away from him and walked toward the water. I reached down and worked my dress up my thighs. I smiled widely when I heard him suck in his breath at the new knowledge that I’ve been naked under the dress the whole day.

Knowing that I could get a guy like Dean worked up has always been a personal win for me. I mean, Jesus, it was almost disgusting how beautiful he was. He was one of those guys that was cute, sexy, and handsome all at once. He was hot, and he didn’t even try. He was the kind of hot that made me weak in the knees and wishing I’d worn some kind of underwear so I wasn’t so exposed from the desire that came from just hearing him breathe near me.

The water was up to my waist before I felt his strong arms snake around me, thick muscles squeezing around my middle. His chest brushed my back and his teeth nipped against my shoulder. “How do you smell so good?” He growled low, sucking at my skin.

I could ask him the same thing. Usually it was sweat, musk, leather, and booze. But sometimes it was gentler, pine soap, and freshly washed sheets. That sleepy smell that babies had. I couldn’t help but wonder what a baby with him would look like. Fat freckles cheeks, wide green eyes, little whispers of his hair. But the fantasy never lasted long, because the reality was, that if I had a baby Dean, I would have it alone.

I could feel him brush against my lower back, suddenly aware that I wasn’t the only one dripping with need. I turned around to face him, not able to take a solid look before his lips were crashing into mine. It was all teeth, pressure, pain. His fingers were knitted in my hair, and his other hand squeezing my ass in his hand. He patted my thigh, prompting me to jump into his arms. I jumped, and he squatted down, catching me with his free hand. My legs pretzeled around his, my thighs squeezing gently.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” Dean growled against my lips, making my head spin all over again.

His hand slid between my thighs with an unbelievable tenderness. His lips slowed against mine, drinking me in. His tongue was almost explorative as he felt every space in my mouth, his lips moving in tandem with the flick of his wrist and gentle caress of his thumb on my clit. I wanted to reach for him, to feel him, but he was buried below me since I was being held above belly button level. So I was stuck with my nails in his back, thighs trembling, sucking on his bottom lip. His hand held my lower back, holding me in place so his fingers could explore a place they already knew, one finger, two, three and my back was arching, head falling back.

Dean kissed between my breasts, leaving purple puckers where his lips were, sealing them with tiny flicks of his tongue. He was slow, deliberate, not quite teasing, and it was good. I could feel my eyelashes fluttering and my mouth hanging open as I tried to remember how to breathe, how to hold myself up, how to be alive.

We spent a lot of time like that. Sex. Fucking. It was all bodies, moving, tasting each other. It felt elemental, like it was something nature demanded of us. He was my Dean, and he knew me. But this, this was different. This wasn’t bed breaking, fuck me until I forget how to speak sex.

He whispered against my skin with gentle brushes of his mouth. “Let it out, Sweetheart. Whatever you’re holding inside, I want all of it.”

We spent a lot of time fucking, but this wasn’t that. My eyes fluttered open, and I saw the sun dipping in the distance, oranges and pink streaking through a cloudless blue sky. He was making love to me. That’s what it was. Dean Winchester, the man of quickies in the front seat of the Impala while Sam was on a beer run, was selflessly giving himself over to me asking for nothing in return. If I thought I was gone on him before, I didn’t know shit.

I rolled my spine up, despite the fact that it was complete jelly, and grabbed the back of his neck with both hands. I stared at him with blurry, unfocused eyes. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Dean promised, his gaze intense as his fingers twisted, causing me to gasp out.

“All of you,” I mumbled, pressing my slick forehead to his.

His deep green eyes met mine, all trees reflected in the crystal clear lake, and he smiled. His lips pressed back against mine, and he fulfilled my wishes.

We moved together, sweat mingling with the water, my back arched, his hands pressing me closer. He laid me out, his hand supporting me as my back almost floated in the water, my hair floating out around me. The sun wasn’t gone completely, but I was seeing stars. Fuck, maybe I was seeing Heaven. My ankles had my legs locked around his waist, moving with him as he pressed deeper and rolled his hips. I reached up, pulling myself back up to his face, his lips, pressing our foreheads together.

We slowed. Time slowed. Crawled. We were the only two people in the world. Dean and I were in a bubble that belonged only to us. I suspected then, that maybe this would be how I’d die, wrapped around him like a vine, withering away from desire. I thought for a moment that I may cry, as my legs and stomach tingled from the repetitive movement, from Dean continuing to stroke and press my buttons. I was coming undone. He was peeling me apart piece by piece, undoing me from the inside out until I was just confetti in his hands.

Our eyelashes fluttered, mouths open in a gasp of complete togetherness as we tipped over the edge, and all I could think was, Jesus Christ, this is it. I’m a fool. I will never survive this. I will love him until the day that I die.

Him

“One more surprise,” I said with a wide grin, looking at Y/N with her messy lake hair, lounging in my t-shirt and boxers. “Close your eyes.”

She followed my instructions, laying on her back. Her features were relaxed, and I just had to look at her for a minute. She was beautiful in a way that I never understood. It gave me a twist in my gut, like maybe I was looking at something that I shouldn’t. Something good. Sammy always worried that he was unclean, but fuck if I didn’t believe we both were. Cas always said I was the righteous man, but a lot of good that did me in the end. I made the wrong choices over and over again. A million times over, but no matter what I did, she never left. She knew it all, every little bad thing, and she was still there, laying gracefully on the beach at a shitty lake with her eyes closed.

I had this unbelievable moment where it occurred to me that this moment was leaving even as it was happening. We would never have this again no matter how hard we tried. She would never be this beautiful, not like this, and I had this heart stopping realization that I may never care about anyone like this again. It was terrifying. A million times worse than dealing with Lucifer, the darkness, the mark, demons, the end of the fucking world. I don’t do this shit. Tried it with Lis, but then again... Lisa isn’t Y/N. No one is. She’s one of a kind.

If I was a better man, I’d let her leave. I’d send her walking. This life wan’t one for someone like her, but as I watched her painted toes curl into the sand I knew that I never could. I wasn’t a better man. I was just me.

So I brought out the ritual candles that I found in the bunker and stuck them in the sand around us, lighting them, and I pulled Sammy’s laptop out of the trunk, sitting it between us. “Alright, open ‘em.”

She opened one eye at a time, taking everything in. She sat up slowly, propping herself up by her arms. The sun had dipped below the lake, and her features seemed to dance in the candle light. “Are we doing a seance?”

I frowned. “No. Don’t chicks like this shit? Beaches, candle light...”

“This one has blood on it, Dean,” Y/N laughed, pointing at the candle next to her.

“Shit.”

I was wrong, before. She could be more beautiful. As she laughed, her head falling back, my chest ached to hold her. My stomach bubbled up in a laugh, because damn, her laugh was contagious.

“You tried, Dean.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, pulling her against me.

“You’re sweet,” she hummed, her soft fingers against my cheek. My skin was left warm from the brush of her fingers.

“I’m a goddamn mess.”

Her eyes searched mine, and she shook her head. “You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but a mess isn’t one of them.” Then she kissed me, as if it was that easy to accept. As if she had some kind of fucking answer that I didn’t.

“Wait, there’s another part.” I leaned forward and opened up the laptop, hoping that I still remembered how to queue up the movie. Sam had it set up, but I was shit at technology. Bingo. I pressed play, and the opening scene of Men in Black started.

“No way,” she gasped, looking at me. “You never want to watch Will Smith movies with me.”

“Never said that.” I shrugged, settling back down.

“You’re jealous of him.”

“No,” I snorted. “I am not.”

“You are,” she teased, pressing her lips to my nose and then the corner of my mouth. My heart hammered in my chest like I was a fucking teenager, and I kind of loved it.

“I’m just sayin’ that I fight real monsters, not some bullshit alien with a rocket launcher,” I grumbled. Real mature, Dean.

“And that’s why you’re fucking me in a lake and not Will Smith,” she said cheekily.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, that’s why?”

“What’s this about, Dean?” She brushed my cheekbone with her thumb, her eyes looking over my face. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this. Today has been amazing... Just... why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

I took her hand in mine and kissed her fingertips. How could I say it? It wasn’t in me. But then there was her. The way she looked sprawled out in the water whispering, “All of you.” I believed her, and I wanted all of it. Whatever the fuck that meant. “I just...Shit. I suck at this,” I laughed scratching the back of my neck. It tingled from the sunburn I’d gotten from earlier in the day.

“Just try,” she urged gently. “You can tell me anything.”

“Fine,” I said with a quick exhale. “I’m gonna do it before I lose my nerve. I... I don’t want you to go. Don’t want you to leave me. I... you’re important to me, Y/N, always have been. I know I’m not exactly the best... fuck, boyfriend? Guy? I’m not someone to come home to. I’m always in danger, and I make stupid choices. I’m not the guy who gets the happy ending, but I don’t want to lose you.”

She smiled then, a smile that didn’t quite meet her sad, wet eyes. “Dean Winchester, how can you be so smart, but such a fucking idiot at the same time?”

“What?”

“I’m not going anywhere, you fucking asshole. What part of the last half of a decade has made you think that I’m anything other than completely in this? I’ll take whatever you’ll give me. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’ll take you on sunny days, rainy ones, and the ones where the sky is literally falling on our heads. Boyfriend, guy, whoever you want to be. You don’t have to be someone I can come home to, Dean, because I will be the one that you can come home to.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip like she was trying to sort something out inside of her head.

And fuck if I didn’t love her more than I thought was ever possible.

As soon as the thought entered my head I couldn’t erase it, I couldn’t run from it, or hide. It was there. I was raw and exposed, and I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that I always loved her.

“I’m in love with you, you fucking idiotic asshole. I don’t say it because I know that scares you, but maybe I need to spell it out for you,” she laughed lightly, shaking her head, her hair falling into her eyes. “I love you, and the only way I’m leaving is if you tell me to.”

She loved me, too. Me. It felt fake. Like a lie, or a dream. But I was there. I could feel the sand in my fingers, and the exhaustion in my dick from my heart and body bleeding out into her out in the water. Life moved too fucking fast, and suddenly one second is a lifetime, and there Y/N is looking at me with those eyes that took my fucking breath away saying that she wanted it. A life. With me.

“Shit, Dean? Did you hear me?”

I was just staring at her like a fucking idiot, and I let out a breathless laugh. “I think I’m in shock.”

“Dean I...”

“Because, Sweetheart, I never thought in a million lifetimes that you’d ever love me back.”

“Love you... back?”

I gave her a quick nod and her lips bursted into a wide smile. “God you’re the worst,” she mumbled, throwing her arms around my neck so she could kiss me, and breathe life back into my body like she had a thousand times before, and the way she would a thousand times still if I had anything to say about it.

—————-

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Sanders Sides AU: Modern Kingdom of Imagineria

Finally I make one of these! My 8 month writer’s block has finally diminished for now and I’ve decided to make an AU I’ve been working on for about a year (among other things).

This is a Modern Fantasy AU, where technology and real life bullshit exists alongside magic. As all good Sanders Sides AUs go, there will be ships. If you want a non-ship esque AU, leave now because there is a whole lotta LAMP.

Anyway, let’s get right into the character descriptions!

Roman Olivers (Dragon-Hybrid, 16)

Roman was born in Manchester, and even after moving to the modern Kingdom of Imagineria at the age of six, he still has a slight English accent.

Roman and his twin brother, Remus, were adopted after their mother was found dead curled around her children in the Endless Forest, just on the outskirts of Manchester. Their adoptive parents, a pair of now ex-dragon hunters, found the twins and took them in as their own.

They moved a few years later, after their mother’s scent vanished and they could leave without the twins remembering her anymore.

Roman’s mother was a fully-grown ruby-scaled dragon (presumably the last of her kind, according to his parents), and he has visible scales of his own on his shoulders, back of his hands, cheeks, neck and forehead.

He is not a full dragon, and he and his brother are half-human. (Or dragonborn, for all of you D&D buffs. Except that he’s mostly human in appearance)

Roman is insecure about his dragon heritage, and as such he grew a slight hatred for dragons. He has often stated that he would slay dragons that ever even set foot near his family.

He doesn’t have wings, but instead has a scaly tail that sprouts from his lower back.

He trips people sometimes, but don’t tell his mother.

All in all, he has serious body dysphoria.

He’s overly protective of his loved ones.

He’s been suspended twice, once because someone made fun of Remus right in front of him, and another time because someone was bullying Virgil.

Roman can create small flames from his mouth, though those have mostly been by accident. This usually occurs when he laughs too hard.

Roman and Virgil didn’t get along for a very, very long time. He eventually started catching feelings for him when he showed up to his front step on his birthday with a woven blanket that he still has not washed to this day.

Roman met Patton and Logan at a library, where Logan snapped at him for flirting with Patton while he was working.

He sings Disney songs on the regular as a coping mechanism.

He’s currently a sophomore in high school that works as his neighbor's babysitter.

Patton Hazir (Harpy, 16)

Patton was born in the Endless Forest, and when he left it for the first time, he appeared in Imagineria.

Patton’s name is actually completely different, but he doesn’t go by it because it’s too complicated to pronounce.

His nickname was Pat because that was the only part of his name that Logan could pronounce. The last name was a random sound he made after stubbing his toe, which kills his friends to this day.

Harpies become independent of their parents after ten years old, and as such don’t have the obligation to return home every night. Since he wanted to go to school, though most harpies don’t want a modern education, he still lives with him.

His parents are very sweet, and naturally they don’t mind.

Patton looks mostly normal, as harpies disguise themselves to present normally to the human eye. The things that seriously stand out about Patton is the fact that he has no ears, he has a few small feathers in his arms that he can’t conceal, and he has talons for feet.

When Patton is in his true form, he has eagle-like feathers sprouting from his arms in varying shades of soft blue. His waist down morphs into the bottom half of some large eagle, tail feathers and all. His torso and head remain as is.

As time progressed, harpies became more docile, and are now not such predatory monsters. They are still extremely territorial and it is unwise to cross a flock, but they are actually very friendly in comparison to a century ago.

Patton is the prime example of the kindest harpies to ever exist in the history of...ever.

He literally smiles at the sun when he wakes up what kind of-

Many people, especially those who are much older, still regard him with a watchful eye.

Patton thinks basically everything is cute. You could show him an imp and he’d pinch its cheek. (He's done this before and he regretted it immediately after)

The biggest challenge for him was Virgil, who we’ll get to in a moment.

They have some really cute moments together.

He can sing, though he’s really shy about it so it rarely ever happens.

His voice sounds enough like music that nobody complains (often).

Patton also has an insane love for sugar cookies, and whenever he’s stressed, he stress-bakes.

Since he doesn’t have a “modern home” in the forest, he usually shows up at Roman's or Virgil's house with a bunch of cookie ingredients.

He has a tendency to steal food, and can’t go into a grocery store without being closely watched.

He received a joke book from Logan on his birthday, and he regrets it. You cannot say anything without him making a pun.

He’s currently a sophomore in high school, and he assists the librarian at the Public Imaginative Library. He doesn’t get paid, and simply loves helping out. That’s how he met Logan.

Logan (Dryad, 14)

Logan was born in the Endless Forest without true parents, being as he is a tree nymph, or a dryad.

Logan was sorely misguided after he was birthed from Mother Earth, and as such he became very curious very, very quickly.

Mere minutes after being born, he wandered to a riverside and was almost killed by a hungry, stranded mermaid.

Luckily he morphed into a tree right at the bank of the river right before she could fatally injure him.

He has a bite mark on his side, which has healed into a scar from the mermaid attack.

Logan was not born naturally smart, and was in fact very naive at birth. He was curious, and never thought of the consequences of his actions until he left the forest and entered Imagineria.

When Logan left the forest, he hid in public parks, where he changed into his tree form for extended amounts of time.

Logan is a dryad, meaning that in Imagineria, if he wished to pursue an education, he could enroll for school on his own. When he learned how to read (he was 3), he became addicted to knowledge, and enrolled himself.

He skipped a grade, which is why he's so young.

The first word that he learned was "falsehood", and he found it very useful after he became friends with Patton, Roman, and Virgil. It is now his favorite word, and he gets very happy when he reads it somewhere.

The library became his home away from home, which is where he met Patton.

Logan is really book smart, NOT street/survival smart. He knows how to transform into a tree when faced with danger, but he doesn't know how to fight per sey.

Logan's appearance is humanoid in nature (no pun intended), and he has the palest skin tone of all the others. There's a slight green tone to his skin, and he sometimes grows small blue flowers that appear in his hair. He also has pointed ears and long claws that he can retract.

He can see well enough, but after meeting Patton, he grew envious of his glasses and made his own out of branches. Don't tell Patton that.

Logan gave himself his name. He doesn't have a last name because he finds it unnecessary.

Logan is a full-blown vegan, and the others need to take this into account whenever they eat together. He doesn't eat often, but he loves fruit and berries.

He's currently a junior in high school.

Virgil Anansi (Arachne, 14)

Virgil was born with the Curse of Arachne, as his family were a mischievous bunch of practicing witches and wizards. This basically means that they angered the ancient spider spirit and she cursed each generation's first born with the Curse.

Virgil was homeschooled until he was of high school age. He's extremely anti-social and insecure because of it.

Much like Roman, Virgil has body dysphoria, though not as badly due to his family.

The Anansi family is a pretty wild and close family, though they experiment with questionable black magic often. They were shunned from society after crossing Arachne.

Had it not been for his curse, Virgil would be classified as an Anansi Witch.

Virgil has three little sisters (triplets), a baby brother, two really weird fathers, a feral uncle who lives in the basement, a grandmother that drinks enough alcohol to poison a large pony, and a familiar for each of them. That makes 9 people and 9 familiars living together.

Virgil's familiar is ironically a spider, a palm-sized tarantula named Kisa.

Virgil had never felt different until he grew up and had to go to school. He was never bullied physically until he showed vulnerability in public.

Virgil's bangs only cover a little bit of his forehead, where three extra pairs of eyes are. They're a pupiless, orchid purple (as Logan dubbed them), and he can't make them vanish like his extra limbs and abdomen. He has fangs, but they're pretty small and elongate when he's hunting. On his back there is a "tattoo" of three purple diamonds.

Often times, when Virgil is being sulky, he makes spider silk blankets and scarves in his room while he listens to classical music.

Depending on what kind of music he listens to effects the sturdiness of his webs. Classical isn't his favorite genre of music, but he can't exactly listen to My Chemical Romance while trying to make an intricate design.

Virgil is an absolute sass master, and normally wins verbal arguments. (You can probably guess who he argues with the most.)

He convinced Patton to sing with him in the school talent show, and they sang Lovely Night from La La Land.

Virgil and Logan are the youngest of their friend group, though often times they feel like they're the ones reeling the oldest ones in.

Virgil's the youngest, and he's treated like the group's baby more often than not.

He and Patton were not super close at first because the harpy was afraid of spiders, and Roman hated his guts for reasons he still won't confess to. He had a hard time making friends with Logan because he was just as awkward if not worse.

He and Patton got really close after an incident caused Patton to break his arm, and Virgil nursed him back to health with potions and a whole lotta cuddling. It was cute.

Virgil met Roman first, which was the worst first impression he had ever given off. Especially since he immediately thereafter had a gay panic.

Virgil is a freshman in highschool, and eventually creates a job in which he creates spider silk blankets and sells them online.

These are the main four's character descriptions, but I can go into depth character appearances, character stories, the modern Kingdom of Imagineria, the Endless Forest, etc. I'm planning on writing the main plotline on AO3, but I haven't decided yet.

I guess I'll have to see. Mkay byee~

[hazinhoodies]

Lovebug (H.O)

HarrisonxReader

A/N: So this is my submission for @starksparker jonas brothers writing challenge. my crush on nick has not gone away since i was nine thanks for asking. anyways have some fluff. song here :)

Warnings: fluff. it’s good and pure

Word Count: 2.2k (lyrics included)

Called her for the first time yesterday

Finally found the missing part of me

Felt so close but you were far away

Left me without anything to say

The phone rang in Harrison's ear. He wasn’t sure what made him call you but he did. He wasn’t sure if this was even still your number. Something inside of him told him it was, or to at least let it ring through and see.

Harrison pulled the phone from his ear to check the time, it would be nearly 3 am for you. Maybe you weren’t going to pick up. It’d rung six times already, the previous gut feeling had started to be taken over by doubt and regret. Just as he was about to hang up the little line underneath your name switch from ‘Ringing’ to the timer. He watched as the seconds ticked by, he heard your voice, it sounded distant.

“Harrison?” Your voice was groggy but smooth and it still made Harrison feel like he’d eating one too many Haribo gummies, like the two of you had many times in school. Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, “Haz?”

“Hm? Yeah. Hi. Sorry ‘bout that” Harrison nearly drops his phone in a rush to place it back against his ear. There was a moment of silence on both ends, he could hear your breathing, steady through the line. Harrison felt everything he had felt before, things he hadn’t felt in years come flooding back to him. His heart pounded in his ears, he was sure you could hear it too

Now I'm speechless, over the edge

I'm just breathless I never thought that I'd catch this

Lovebug again

Hopeless, head over heels in the

Moment I never thought that I'd get hit

by this Lovebug again

“Was there something you needed?” You ask. Harrison imagines what you look like right now. Lying down on your back or stomach, propped up by your elbows. The phone was probably pressed to your ear, still plugged into its charger, the blankets likely sat around your waist, you hadn’t bothered moving them since you sat up to answer the phone. He wondered if the shirt you wore was your own or someone else's. The thought made his chest squeeze.

“Uh no. I’m just calling to say hi. Catch up, s’been a while” Harrison pressed his hand to his forehead. He scolded himself for giving such a dumb answer. Truthfully he had no clue why he had called. You chuckled from the other side.

“Harrison it’s three in the morning. Can we talk tomorrow? I’ll text you I promise.” He can hear the small smile in your voice, the one he’d learned to adore at the age of 14. The one he didn’t stop loving in 8 years, even after not having seen it for three of them.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry” Harrisons tongue darted over his bottom lip. “Um. Before you go though, can I ask you something?” He chewed the inside of his cheek while waiting for a response, subconsciously fiddling with the string of his hoodie.

“Of course” You mumbled, the words slurred together slightly, the tiredness in your voice starting to take over once again.

“Why’d you pick up? I mean, if it’s so late then why even bother?” He was genuinely curious. If you had been asleep and we’re currently as tired as you sounded, why not wait until morning?

“Hazza” You laugh lightly, using the nickname you’d called him throughout school when he was doing something stupid. Tom was usually involved in those, “Made a promise long time ago” You yawned, shorter syllable words were lost in the slur of sleep in your voice. “Swore that if you ever needed me I’d be there Hazza. We don’t break promises. Night, Harrison”

“G’night” he muttered quietly as he hung up, your words echoing in his mind.

I can't get your smile out of my mind

I think about your eyes all the time

You're beautiful but you don't even try

Modesty is just so hard to find

In the morning, the only confirmation of the previous night’s events Harrison had was a text from you. A simple ‘hello, hope you slept well’ was at the top of his notifications. He contemplated waiting a little longer to text you but decided against it.

It was Harrison’s last couple of days in New York before him and Tom flew back to London. Every moment that he could spare was spent texting you.

The two of you talked about anything and everything, catching up on everything the two of you had missed since a few months after graduating from BRIT school. You told him about your recent auditions for West End, how you thought you did horrible on the first couple but the next ones were significantly better.

He thought hard to remember your voice, and how it’d sounded during school. Vivid memories came to him. Memories of you sat on his bed trying to type out a paper while music played from your computer. You hummed along with the melody, Harrison was sure you didn’t notice it, not even when you mumbled the words to the chorus. They were quiet but Harrison could hear them clearly, in those moments he couldn’t care less that you weren’t supposed to be on this side of the dormitories, didn’t care that both of you could get in a lot of trouble. Because it was you. Trying to sing every part to La Vie Boheme at half past 11, your essay receiving little attention.

Every time you replied to one of his jokes or a story he’d just told, Harrison tried to picture your smile and laugh. Though it was hard to tell if it’d be the laugh that made your eyes squint and crease at the edges, or the one that made almost no noise, the same one that would make your whole upper body shake for a second until immediately followed by a snarky remark.

Harrison boarded the plane, quickly letting you know that he was about to take off. Just as he was about to turn it onto airplane mode you replied, telling him to text you when he lands. Harrison didn’t know he was smiling, but Tom did.

“So when are you gonna tell me ‘bout whoever it is you’ve been texting?”

Now I'm speechless, over the edge

I'm just breathless

I never thought that I'd catch this love bug again

Hopeless, head over heels in the moment

I never thought that I'd get hit by this love bug again

“Why don’t you come over or something? If you’re not too busy of course. You’ve been back for a month and we have yet to see each other” The two of you were on the phone, the fifth call that week, you were definitely racking up minutes.

“Can we go out for dinner instead possibly?” Harrison asked, immediately backtracking when he realized how it may sound “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you at your flat it’s just-” Harrison stopped, he couldn’t go back now, he’d already said too much to continue pretending he hasn’t been dying to take you on a date for the past six years; too much to pretend he hasn’t had a crush on you for the past eight.

“Harrison it’s fine. I’d love to actually” You spoke before he could continue his sentence, he let out his breath in relief.

“Great. That’s uh. That’s perfect” Harrison stutters out, tripping over his words. His mind was running a mile a minute, already overthinking. Is this a date? Where were you two going to go? What was he going to wear? What if everything goes horribly wrong? And then your voice comes through the phone, and it’s like the hurricane clears, the waves calm down, and everything’s okay again.

“Good” You whisper breathily.

“Good” Harrison whispers back. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering, but you did, so he did in return. He bites his lip to hold back a smile, not that you could see it anyways.

“It’s a date then”

He smiles wide, his teeth no longer able to hold back his lip as his heart starts racing and continues to even once you’ve hung up.

Kissed her for the first time yesterday

Everything I wished that it would be

Suddenly I forgot how to speak

Hopeless, breathless, baby can't you see?

Harrison stepped precariously towards your door. His heart was pounding, it’d be the first time he’s seen you since he was seventeen. He wondered how much you’d changed, maybe you’d changed your hair colour, maybe your style changed. Did you still laugh hard enough that soda nearly went up your nose? Could he still make you laugh that hard?

Harrison shakes the thoughts from his head. Even if you’d changed, that doesn’t matter, he has too. Change is inevitable. He’s sure, absolutely certain, that he’d still love you just the same.

Harrison smooths out his shirt and straightens his jacket. He looks over himself and pulls out his phone, using the front camera as a mirror just to check his hair one last time, as if he hadn’t checked five times before he left, and twenty more in the rearview mirror in his car.

He places his phone back into his pocket and knocks on your door, two small knocks. When there’s no response he almost thinks it wasn’t loud enough, or maybe he had the wrong address or date. Before he can complete the thoughts, the door opens.

“Hi” You look up at him, it takes a moment but a smile breaks on your face. Harrison feels his heart jump. You look different, but it’s still you. Your hair is different than it was when you’d graduated, you look more tired, there spots on your face that he was sure weren’t there before.

But it’s you. And you’re beautiful as ever.

There’s a long moment of silence as the two of you take in the other's appearance before you speak up. “You look, um” You run a hand through your hair “You look really good, great actually” Your eyes find their way to his.

Harrison is sure his heart melts right there. Everything else about you has changed slightly since you’d last seen each other, but your eyes stayed the same. Still playful, excitable, and happy. He can’t help but hope that part of it is because it’s him who’s standing in front of you.

“You do too” Harrison replies, “You’ve hardly changed,” He notices how you smile and immediately look down at your feet, hiding the small amount of heat that rose to your cheeks.

“I would say the same about you but the last time I saw you, you were a clumsy, lanky, mess. Much too tall for your own good and sporting almost a mushroom haircut” You look back up at Harrison to see him cringing, eliciting a laugh from you.

“Yeah clearly I’ve gotten better hair since then, and gotten used to my height” Harrison chuckles, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. There’s another moment of silence, Harrison wonders when the two of you had gotten so close together, merely inches apart now. He’s looking at you, admiring your features, still in shock that you’re in front of him. You’re looking at him, and memories are flooding back, like when he carried you back to your room after you fell. It wasn’t a bad injury, but he insisted.

Harrison notices that you’re biting your lip the slightest bit, then how your eyes flick down to his lips and back up to his eyes.

Before he knows it, his hands are on your waist, pulling you flush against him, yours are around his neck, toying with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. Your lips are moving together and it’s like the airs been sucked out of his lungs, replaced with you.

All he needs.

All he’s ever needed.

Harrison didn’t know what to expect this time; the first time your lips are actually pressed together. He’d known what it would’ve been like when he’d imagined kissing you when you were young, or at least he thought he did. He knew you’d taste like artificial strawberry from the gummies and your noses would’ve bumped together when you were sat on his floor at fifteen. You’d have tasted like coffee and you would’ve smiled into the kiss when you were sat on his bed at seventeen. But now, here, your hands in his hair and lips against his, he wonders why he didn’t kiss you sooner while simultaneously glad that he didn’t. Because this?

This is could not get any better.

This is perfect.

He pulls away, breathless, his hand stayed on your hips, eyes still closed.

“Thought the kiss was supposed to come after the date” You chuckle. Harrison opens his eyes to see your cheeks pink, lips too.

Harrison smiles, a laugh slipping through his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since we were 14, I think I’ve waited long enough”

“I was getting a little tired of waiting. Eight years is a long time to wait for someone to kiss you”

Now I'm speechless, over the edge

I'm just breathless

I never thought that I'd catch this love bug again

Now I'm hopeless, head over heels in the moment

I never thought that I'd get hit by this love bug again, (oh)

Lovebug again

haz:

@summernykole @hjosterfield @imagines-andshizz @thequeensardine @mellifluous-tom @osterfieldholland01 @happymagicbee @artemisiaarm @sincerelymlg @butithasntkilledyouyet @headsup-itsmostlypeter @bitchymathematician @melsbooktrash

[tleecacc]

Virginia Lee

My mom came into this world on November 11, 1922. She loved that she was born 11/11/22. And she loved that it was something genuinely unique. That it held all the axioms of synchronicity. 

She often proudly told the story of when she was born, how she was so tiny the doctor’s did not expect her to live. As a last resort, a last ditch effort to save her life, the doctor gave my mother horse serum. Apparently that was a thing. And when she made it through the night, the doctor came in the next morning to tell her mother and father that miraculously she was gaining strength. He said to her parents, my grandmother Eulalia, and grandfather Daniel, ‘this little girl is a fighter’ …That she was.

She was born into an era that included the great depression. She lived through a world war, and so many incredible changes that the 20th century presented its almost unfathomable. Some of which she out right rejected, others she eventually either accepted or adopted. Her first microwave oven was used as a bread box for years before she agreed to learn to use it properly. She was the original, ultimate minimalist. She saved wax paper, rubber bans, bread bags and aluminum foil. She abhorred the idea of just throwing things away after one use, which culminated in receiving food gifts wrapped in layers wax paper, encased in at least two bread bags, held tightly together with six rubber bans. She was also a vitamin freak and insisted on a well balanced diet. We were not allowed to leave the house without drinking orange juice that was kept in as air tight a container as possible, so as not to lose its rich life giving force. She detested impracticality. We’d by her gifts to make her life easier but she would eventually admit to one or another of us, ‘Its so unnecessary, I don’t need it’ ‘I’ll never use it. My old (fill in the blank) works just fine’ etc. 

I thought she was the most gentle person ever to touch her feet to this earth. And I believed she couldn’t possibly love anyone as much as she did my brother’s and sisters and I, until she met her grandchildren. My mother held an extraordinary amount of love in her heart for each of them.

She found her spiritual path in the love and devotion she exhibited towards her family everyday of her life, and to every person she encountered, with few exceptions. She prayed for all of us everyday. Harder if she thought we were in special need, a heart was aching, someone's health was in question, a soul was at risk… or you spent time in bars which is the same thing…  so yeah, she prayed a lot. 

My mother was one of 11 children born to Daniel and Eulalia May. When you come from large families such as ours, you can spew out the names of your offspring or siblings in successive order as if it were one name. For my Mother’s family it was

BobDorthyVirginiaMaryRitaBillLoraineDaveDanBarbaraTom. And by the time my mother was 14 years old, she was a mother to her 8 younger siblings, as her mother was rarely well. She never complained about that role. She loved her brothers and sisters and was devoted to their care. She loved each of them and their individual take on life. She was very proud of the life they each garnered for themselves and their children. She was happy to see them living in a world less harsh than the childhood they endured. She held an extraordinary capacity of love in her heart for each of them. And she took their needs on without the least bit of resentment or regret. 

My mother’s family moved 17 times in her years at home. In a family with six gorgeous women you can imagine the stir it caused within each neighborhood they were adopted into. They were the May girls. With their flowing red, auburn and black heads of hair, their Miss America smiles and that undeniable May sense of fun loving humor. To say they were gregarious almost doesn’t do their personalities justice. 

My momma was beautiful, physically and spiritually. She loved her life. She was radiant in the outdoors and pushed us daily to be out in the fresh air. She was athletic. Mom made the varsity field hockey team as a freshman. She never drove a car and so walked everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Which may explain the athletic prowess of her children. As toddlers, when the newest sibling took over your spot in the stroller, we had to run along side her to keep up. Although she only stood four foot eleven, she had legs that moved incredibly fast. This tiny, feisty, determined woman walked everywhere and loved every minute of it, so it was hard on all of us to see the loss of that freedom in the recent months when her health finally took that joyful ability away. 

According to my mother, the advent of television was humanities downfall, and she was determined to get us children out of doors in the fresh air. She loved picnics in the park and spending time in our large back yard (‘you can’t find a back yard like that just anywhere’). She took us places on busses when my dad did not. We rode to the Art museum, Steinberg, downtown, the Muny free seats, all of forest park really and of course Cardinal Glennon Hospital. A place I believe they new her by name. She made sure we learned to swim, rode bikes, and spent as much time as possible at Jamieson park. She ensured we ran, play ball of any and every kind. All of which we each embraced and learned to love. And to this day we, each of us appreciates her love of nature, because she instill that same love in each of us.

We woke every morning to a good, most often hot breakfast. We were not allowed to escape without first downing a glass of orange juice. Our nutrition was high on her list. Good food on our plates was something she did not often have as a child and often went hungry. I think she is the only person I know who actually did walk uphill to and from school…in worn-out clothes and ill fitting shoes. So to my mother, giving your children what you didn’t have meant that we had everything that was important. Sometimes more, but never less. 

She made Christmas Eve our best family celebration every single year. And the tradition goes on today, and will never fade if most of us have our way. It was one occasion that brought us together without fail with all of our clashing personalities, boisterous voices, our loud laughter, and our undying competitive spirits. And an occasional cartwheel from Uncle Laurie. It wasn’t always easy. It was always crowded. And nothing gave her greater joy than to see us all hugging and joking and telling stories, especially if they were about her. She never once let us for a minute question her deep abiding love for us, and she laced all of it with her Irish, indelible May family sense of humor. 

My mother was hilarious and she’d be the first one to let that be known. Her sense of humor was one of her great attributes and oh so contagious. My mom instilled in us a basic truth, that one can get through any hardship with prayer and an ability to laugh at ones own foibles. Besides, they made for better stories. And she was the ultimate storyteller, often laughing harder than everyone in the room. She’d sometimes be laughing so hard you couldn’t make out the punch line. And she loved a good practical joke. She once turned off the kitchen lights and laid herself out on the floor, playing dead, to scare my brother Scott, after he and my brother Chris had just spent an hour telling my sisters and me scary stories in the dark. Stories and antics that made us scream with fear and laughter, except maybe Laurie. She screamed alright but then burst into tears….of course…Because Laurie cries at everything so, grain of salt. But man she got him good. And laid there on the floor laughing so hard her belly shook.

She had the most contagious smile. Broad and genuinely warm and engaging. Her laugh was the most incredible music I’ve ever known. If she was telling you a story that she found particularly hilarious, it was all she could do to get the words out as she could hardly breathe. In those moments it didn’t matter that you might not be able to understand her, her joy was a gift.

She made our life so amazing. Nine kids in a 2 bedroom house with a 1/2 story attic big enough for 5 girls to share, like a dorm room. A finished basement where we could roller skate when it rained, or play ping pong or pool and a room that held a zillion board games, blocks, bats, balls, snow suits and boots, a record player, dart board, and the electric trains we set up every Christmas. She taught us to play cards, and never complained when we turned up the stereo or radio when we girls were doing dishes, or dad was out of the house. 

She pitched whiffle balls, set up our croquet game or let us use her clothes line for badminton or volleyball. She let us dig in the dirt, play with the hose when it was hot, had my dad build us a sand box and a swing set. She taught us how to cross stitch and made paste with flour and water to stick our construction paper cutouts together. She was unstoppable. She was the ultimate mother. I am who I am today because on 11/11/22, the day God took his wand and cast stardust across the universe and breathed life into my sweet sweet mother, the tiny infant that was not expected to live. She fought for her own life and that of her children and grandchildren with love and prayer and sheer determination. She fought with a deep love for life and heart felt prayer from her soul, for each of us.

The last day she was awake, she gave me a message to pass on to her children. It was a moment I will never forget for the remainder of my own days, and worth repeating often.

‘Tell the children I said goodbye. 

Tell them that I love them so much.

Tell them to be good to their mother’s and dads, they love them so much

I love them so much’

I said, I promise momma, I love you so much

She said, ‘I love you more.’…I love you more. How could I ever argue that.

Addendum:

Since the funeral, I have wanted to finish my acknowledgments of the remainder of my siblings that I did not mention at church. Sorry, I lost if after Peggy…

To:

My brother Christopher Dennis, for all the quiet stoic patience that my mother instilled in you. I remember how you always got on your bike and ran errand for mom as a kid. How you took on babysitting duties and made those times fun for us. How you rarely, if ever, complained about life in the middle of 9 kids. How much joy you gave her with the attention and love you gave to our brother Mark. It made her so happy. Mom loved you so much and I could always see her appreciation of you and your gentle way of being. When I look at you, I see that part of her in you.

Mark Joseph, wish you could read and understand me so I could tell you how incredibly much she loved you. Words could never convey.

James, I’m happy she is finally able to bestow all of herself on you now.

Carol Lee. Mom loved you so so deeply. She worried about you constantly, and was so grateful to be able to be there for you in the hard times you suffered from a disease doctors knew very little about in your younger years. She was always so happy to hear your sweet voice on the phone, and to know you were okay. I know she hated leaving you. Thank you for always staying so closely connected to her.

Laurie Lee. She thought she was finished having her passel of children, but as she was apt to reminded you, she decided she had room for just one more, and that was you. I love how much you loved her. How you kept in contact with her and worried about her. You were her last and she enjoyed spoiling you with her time and attention in the years when you were the last be at home with her before grade school. She always noted your generous heart, and you are more like her in that way than many, you just cry more…then again maybe not. She was so proud of you and how hard you worked for the sisters. You are so devoted to your own family, and working for the nuns is almost as good as having a priest for a son…, but not quite so don’t get a big May head about it. Lucy I am so grateful to have been there, to bare whitness, as you, her youngest child, knowing this would probably be her last meal bravely spoon feed her, through tears of course, that last bit of ice cream. I will never forget it.

Finally I come to Scott David. This one, will get to me the most. I spent many hours over my lifetime watching my mom with her own struggles, for her strength to take care of her brood with little sleep, for her ability to keep going after a particularly difficult day with the Bear, which were many, to fight her own depression from being overwhelmed with the enormity of the load she bore everyday from the sheer logistics of her life. But you Scottie were my hero in that. You could make mom laugh with just a one liner as you came barreling through the door. You were a true angel in mom’s life and therefore all of our lives. You brought her more joy with your own May sense of humor than all of us put together. You made her day, everyday that you were near her, and for that I could never repay you. I relished every single moment of watching you, with your quick and whitty sense of irony, make her laugh, make her smile, make her silently giggle. Thank you for all the Johnnie Carson nights you spent with her. I enjoyed watching the two of you at that hour more than any other hour of the day, because you could always bring her relief with your own joy of life. Thank you for all the practical jokes you put up with from her. They were the best and I was always on board with being in on them. You as much as mom taught me that with a humor, everything, no matter how difficult, can be made better, could be eased. I can never find the words to express how much hope you brought back to us when you lifted her spirits. Thank you for giving her so much joy. I don’t know what she would have done without you in her life.

Love you Momma,

Theresa Lee 

[randomly-random-jen]

Uncalled for Actions (16/?)

A Girl Genius fanfic

When Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part). He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet.

[Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | Part 17 ]

Part 16

Gil stared up at Anevka from where Tarvek had tossed him, his lips still tingling from the surprise kiss. "What was that for?"

Anevka laughed at her brother's retreating form. "Serves him right for spying."

"Spying?" Gil frowned then touched his lips. "Wait, you kissed me because you knew Tarvek was watching?" Anger bubbled up as she continued to laugh.

"Oh, Gil, you're so innocent; it's just adorable."

Gil got up, stepping out of her reach. "You used me to humiliate your own brother." He couldn't hide the hurt in his voice. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her.

Anevka's smile fell away. "Come on, Gil, it was just a joke--don't be like that."

Gil just shook his head as he continued to back away from her towards the gate then he turned and ran. He was only a few seconds behind Tarvek, but the tunnel and staircase were both empty already.

Gil took the stairs three at a time, throwing open the gate at the top with a clank. Which way? He was about to head back the way he'd come with Theo earlier--towards the burning atrium--when he heard a door slam in the opposite direction.

Following the noise, he found himself in an older, less used part of the castle. The hall sported heavy iron doors every ten meters or so. Gil stopped in the center of the corridor, straining to hear any sound, any clue which door he heard slam. His only other option was to just try to randomly open them.

The closest two he tried were, of course, locked and the third had been welded shut. Gil backed quickly away from that one when something began scratching and the knob shook--his father did say Sturmhalten was notorious for its monsters.

He considered just giving up when the door behind him suddenly opened.

"You," Tarvek shouted, face red and eyes even redder.

Was he crying? Something inside of Gil twisted hard; it felt like his heart. Gil was the one that cried--when the other kids picked on him and pushed him down and stole his dinner and told him he was worthless. Tarvek was the strong one that always stood up to the bullies and got Gil through one of the hardest times in his life.

Seeing him weak was more unsettling than he cared to admit.

Gil opened his mouth to say something, but then just closed it again when words failed him. Tarvek continued to seethe in the doorway--his entire body vibrating. Taking a deep breath, Gil tried again to say something, anything, but this time Tarvek turned suddenly and stormed into the room.

Gil followed slowly in what ended up being a rather large and bright laboratory. At the center was a long workbench covered in a microscope, beakers and about a dozen little bottles.

And one familiar dart.

He picked it up, anger flaring along with a phantom pain in his neck. He spun, looking for Tarvek just in time to get a ball of fabric to the face that nearly knocked him off his feet with the force it hit him.

"Deidrick Lafayette," Tarvek said. "That's the name of the designer on Avenue Montaigne, Paris."

Gil unwadded the bundle to find light blue trousers now adorned with a delicate floral design. "Maybe you'll start a new fashion trend," he said, tossing them back with a laugh.

Tarvek's eyes darkened. "If by trend you mean everyone laughing at me all day then, yeah, I'm a trendsetter."

Gil ducked his head--he never guessed Tarvek would wear the trousers the entire day. It didn't seem so funny anymore. An apology was on the top of his tongue when the dart caught his attention again, bringing another surge of anger that was preferable to the guilt overwhelming him,

"So you going to tell me again how you didn't drug me?" he asked, holding it up.

Tarvek scoffed. "I already told you, Holzfäller, I don't care enough to drug you--it was all in your addled brain."

"You think I imagined being attacked in your castle by one of your personal guards?"

"What are you talking about?" Tarvek said, snatching the dart from him. "Why would anyone attack you?"

He seemed to realize what he said a moment too late--his skin blazing as red as his hair, but Gil didn't let the opportunity pass. "You mean besides you attack me? Twice," he added, holding up two fingers for emphasis. "I guess we could also count that one cousin of yours--Tweedle--who threatened to punch my face in. That's three attacks right there; two in the first few hours I was here. 

“Then last night I was minding my own business when this crazy miniature mercenary took me down with two of those."

Tarvek just shook his head. "I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Well, she's your Smoke Knight, isn't she?"

Tarvek frowned, his fingers fiddling with the dart. "There are hundreds of Smoke Knights-"

"Red hair, blue eyes-"

"You just described three-quarters of the people in the castle right now."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Yes, the genetics run strong in your family--you must be proud."

Tarvek crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you have a point?"

"Yeah, at the tip of that dart."

"You know, having a conversation with you is an exercise in futility, if you can even qualify what we're doing as conversing."

Gil matched his defensive pose. "It'd be a lot easier if you just admitted you attacked me."

Tarvek brushed past Gil, tossing the dart on the table then started to clean up. "Yes, you already established that I attacked you--get over it already."

"I meant the drugs," Gil said, picking up a bottle with no label and sniffing it until Tarvek took it away.

"I told you it wasn't me."

Gil sighed--futile was definitely the word he'd use, too. Tarvek would never confess. Of course, whatever he was dosed with the night before had lowered his resistance to suggestion. He'd said too much answering Seffie's questions--had nearly given away closely guarded secrets if it hadn't been for the training he'd received on resisting mind control.

So he figured one of these vials contained some of that truth serum, and he bet Tarvek's self-control would be less defined. The problem was none of the bottles he could see were labeled.

"Fine, you had nothing to do with it," Gil said, obviously surprising Tarvek. "Just like I didn't have anything to do with your sister--Anevka kissed me."

As expected Tarvek screwed up his face in disgust and looked anywhere other than Gil, giving him time to snatch up the dart and a bottle that was suspiciously less full than the others.

"Thanks for reminding me--I'll be scarred for life."

Gil shrugged. "I can't help it if I'm irresistible to the girls in your family--Anevka, Seffie." That freaky Smoke Knight kid.

"Are you trying to get hit again?" Tarvek said, voice heavy with the threat.

With a laugh, Gil patted Tarvek's cheek as he headed towards the door. "I beat you once already."

Tarvek shoved him ard in the back, but Gil was expecting it, easily hopping with the momentum and staying on his feet. "See you in the morning, Sturmvoraus--I have a party that I was very much invited to to get back to." He waggled his fingers over his shoulder and slammed the door seconds before something hit it with a dull thwump then fell to the floor.

"You owe me new trousers," Tarvek shouted from the closed lab.

In your dreams, Gil thought as he headed back towards the stairs to the steam party, but he passed right by without slowing. The earlier thrill he'd felt at being included had evaporated. Anevka had used him just like his father had warned him.

And worse--it hurt. 

He wanted desperately to trust her, to have her as a friend and ally. At least now his eyes were open--he had no allies here; he had no allies ever. It was a lesson his father had tried to teach him for years and he was finally starting to understand.

Now it was time for a little revenge, he thought, pulling the dart from his pocket.

Gil managed to find his way back to the guest wing without being seen, slipping silently through the door while Barkley dozed by the fire. He tip-toed down the hall and listened outside his father's room.

Hearing no snoring, he took the risk of trying the knob, finding it unlocked and the room empty. The Baron was probably chatting with the Prince or working somewhere else in the castle.

He found what he'd been looking for quickly--the case on the chest of drawers--and hurried to his own room, locking the door behind him. In the bathroom, Gil pulled out test tubes and chemicals from the case, setting up several tests on the vial and dart he'd snagged.

It was nearly three in the morning before he snuck the case back into his father's still-empty room and curled into bed for a few hours of sleep while his last experiment finished. He smiled as he drifted off thinking of payback and Tarvek's smug smile being wiped off his stupid, perfect face.

* * *

"We tend to think in terms of what we can see and hear--our two biggest input senses," Miss Ziegler, the science teacher said, "but when it comes to memories, there's another sense that is much more powerful. Does anyone know what that is?"

Several hands shot up in the air. Gil leaned his chin in his hand and stared at the clock--just fifteen more minutes and they were free for the day. Next to him, Tarvek carefully transcribed the answer Willow gave as Miss Ziegler elaborated.

Gil rolled his eyes at the precise way his friend wrote each letter, pressing so firmly with his pencil that Gil knew he could get his own set of notes just by rubbing a lead over the paper beneath to reveal the writing.

"That's correct," Miss Ziegler said. "Smell is one of, if not, the most powerful senses in our arsenal, especially when it comes to memories. Just think about your favorite memories--what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

She pointed at Mathias. "What's your favorite memory?"

"Solstice," he said timidly.

"And what's the first thing you think of when you think of the Solstice?"

"Presents?" he asked, getting a laugh from the other kids.

Miss Ziegler only smiled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "When I think of Solstice, I think of evergreen wreaths and waxy candles and smoky wood stoves cooking a feast of pheasant and goose."

Gil's stomach grumbled at the thought. Not that he had any experience with Solstice--they didn't exactly celebrate holidays on Castle Wulfenbach although some kids did hang wreaths and exchange presents in the winter. Gil never got anything, though.

"What's your favorite smell?" Miss Ziegler asked Juniper Rosewell.

"Cookies."

"And why's that?"

"They remind me of my mother--she loves to bake and sometimes I would come home from school to find her in the kitchen even though we had servants to do that sort of thing. I would sit at the table and help her roll the dough and cut the shapes, and we'd talk about our days."

"Those are lovely memories, Juniper--you'll always cherish them."

Gil's stomach growled even louder at the thought of cookies. The clocked ticked by--ten minutes to go. He sighed, letting his elbow slip out from under his chin a little, his head sinking lower to the desk. Tarvek hummed his disapproval like he often did, making Gil roll his eyes.

The class seemed to drag on forever as the teacher went around the room asking each student for their favorite memory or scent. Each story made Gil more hungry or depressed until panic started to set in when he realized he'd probably have to add his own story.

What would he even say? Did he even have a favorite memory in his short, miserable life?

He glared at the clock, willing it to move faster and resolving himself to figure out the secrets of time and space when he got older if only to go back and escape this moment.

"And what about you, Tarvek?" Miss Ziegler asked.

Gil's stomach plummeted as his heart shot into his throat--he was next.

Tarvek put down his pencil and bit his lip as he thought. Gil glanced from his friend to the clock and back repeatedly. How could time move so slowly one moment and quickly the next?

Tarvek straightened his papers, still thinking. He had just as much time to formulate a response; why was he stalling? Was he doing that because he knew how scared Gil was? The thought set off a burst of warmth in his chest for his best friend.

"Well," Tarvek finally said after a little prodding, "if I'd have to choose a favorite scent it would probably be the smell of grass after a rainy day."

Miss Ziegler and several of the kids nodded in agreement, but Tarvek only stared at his paper, brow furrowed.

"And why's that?"

His frowned intensified, but then he took a deep, steady breath. “When I was little--before I came to Castle Wulfenbach--my father would get really busy so my mother would take my sister and me on picnics. It didn't matter the weather. Even in the dead of winter, we would sit on wool blankets and eat steamy bowls of chowder in the snow."

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, but it quickly faded along with the light in his eyes. "This one time, though, my sister didn't want to come with so my mother and I went alone. It had rained that morning and the ground was soggy so we took off our shoes and socks and walked in our bare feet despite the mud.

“We laid there all afternoon, digging our toes in the cool earth, searching for bugs and listening to the birds sing." Tarvek suddenly sucked in a gurgling breath, his lower lip quivering.

Before anyone could say anything, the clock struck the hour, ending the class. Tarvek shot out of his seat, leaving his bag behind, but Gil was right behind him, shoving everything from the desk into Tarvek's bag before following him out the door.

"Wait up," he called.

When Gil finally caught up, Tarvek grabbed his bag and shoved Gil away. "Leave me alone," he said through clenched teeth, wiping at his eyes.

"Why? What did I do?"

Tarvek pushed him again then ran off, leaving Gil stunned and confused.

He waited for his friend at supper, but Tarvek didn't show which meant Gil only managed to snag a single piece of buttered bread before the bullies confiscated the rest of his food--he'd forgotten how bad things had been before Tarvek, and he went to bed hungry and angry at being abandoned.

But when Tarvek wasn't in class the next day and no one had seen him at breakfast, Gil began to worry. He barely paid attention and missed the entire discussion on how the sense of taste related to the sense of smell, only thankful he never had to come up with his own memory. After class, he waited to speak to Miss Ziegler.

"Do you know where Tarvek is?" he asked, his mouth a little dry with nerves.

Miss Ziegler set her glasses on the table--she looked a lot older and more tired than usual.

"I'm afraid, Prince Sturmvoraus isn't feeling well right now."

"Oh." Gil stared at his feet. "That's too bad." Here Gil was angry Tarvek wasn't at supper when he was sick? Some friend.

"Remember how we talked about memories linked to smells?"

Gil nodded.

"Well, I think those memories were a little too much for Tarvek to manage yesterday--it happens when we're away from our loved ones. They call it home-sickness."

"Oh," Gil said again even though he had no understanding of homesickness. Castle Wulfenbach was the only home he knew, and there was no one here that he would miss if he left. Except Tarvek.

The thought of being away from him even for a night left his stomach roiling and his heart aching. Maybe he could understand after all.

"You're a good friend to him, Gilgamesh, maybe you can think of a way to cheer him up," Miss Ziegler said as she saw him out the door.

Gil sat alone at lunch and supper again, trying to think of ways to make Tarvek feel better which was easier said than done when he wouldn't even talk to Gil for some reason. And it all started because of that story about the wet grass picnic.

That's what gave him the idea, and when Tarvek finally showed his face again a few days later, Gil set his plan in motion.

"I'm not really in the mood for an adventure right now," Tarvek said at breakfast that morning. He chewed a bite of toast half-heartedly then washed it down with a sip of juice. "Besides we have classes."

Gil rolled his eyes--had Tarvek learned nothing from him. "Come on, it'll be fun. No one even knows you're back from being sick."

Tarvek glanced around the dining room at the other kids eating and laughing. "But I'm right here--they can see me."

Gil groaned--why was he being so difficult? "We'll just say you thought you were better, but you were wrong and felt icky after eating so went back to bed, okay?"

"Gil-"

"Come on, Tarvek, what's one more day?"

Tarvek frowned at his bowl of fruit that he'd barely touched then sighed, letting Gil known he'd finally won. Gil pumped his fist in the air in celebration of his win.

"You're not exactly playing into the whole, 'I'm still sick’ thing, you know?" Tarvek said with half a smile.

"Oh, right," Gil said then pushed Tarvek off his seat while dumping his food on the floor. "Oh, no," he said loudly, getting the attention of some of the kids nearby, "aren't you feeling well? You must have passed out and fell and made a big mess. Maybe you should go back to bed, Tarvek."

Tarvek narrowed his eyes at Gil then slowly stood, wiping fruit from his shirt. "Maybe you're right, Gil," he said just as dramatically. "I don't feel well at all."

Just then one of the older girls came over, brow knit in concern. "Should I call the nurse?" she asked, wringing her hands together. "Or maybe von Pinn?"

"No," both boys shouted, startling her.

"It's okay," Gil told her, swinging Tarvek's arm over his shoulder, "I've got him--he's not as fat as he looks."

"Hey," Tarvek said then leaned all of his weight on Gil, nearly knocking him over. 

Gil struggled to keep them both upright as he picked through the slippery mess of their breakfast on the floor. "I think he just needs one more day of rest and then he'll be fine."

"Are you sure you don't want me to get the nurse?" the girl asked Tarvek.

Tarvek shook his head. "I'll be okay. Gil can take care of me--he's not as dumb as he looks."

Gil growled under his breath at the insult, but didn't say anything as he moved them along, still trying to carry almost all of Tarvek's weight--maybe he was fatter than he looked.

The moment they left the dining room, though, Tarvek shoved off of Gil, pushing him into a plant that Gil barely managed to keep from knocking over.

"Jerk," Tarvek muttered.

Gil fixed the plant upright then joined Tarvek, grinning like an idiot.

"Well?" Tarvek said after a moment. "You got us out of class, now what?"

"Oh, right, the adventure. Come on, this way."

He snatched Tarvek's hand and started running, Tarvek struggling to keep up as usual. They wound their way out of the school and through the forbidden halls of Castle Wulfenbach, garnering some attention from the crew, but no one stopped them.

"Where are we going?" Tarvek finally asked when they started heading into a restricted area.

Gil tugged on his hand, but Tarvek dug his heels in, refusing to budge.

"Don't you trust me?" Gil asked, batting his extra-long lashes. Tarvek chewed his lip for a moment like he was weighing his options or trying to decide if he did trust Gil--his hesitation hurt more than Gil wanted to admit. "Why are you still mad at me?" he asked, surprising both of them.

Tarvek blinked. "I'm not mad at you."

"You yelled at me," he said softly, kicking at a scuff on the floor, "and pushed me."

"Oh." Tarvek went back to biting his lip, looking everywhere but at Gil.

Now Gil felt sick--like his stomach was being tied in a knot and his heart squeezed still. He rubbed at the imaginary pain in his chest. If homesickness felt anything like having your best friend mad at you, he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy--he could barely breath when Tarvek stopped talking to him, and all he wanted now was to fix things.

"Come on," he said, softly, taking Tarvek's hand again, "I just want to show you something. Please."

Agonizing moments passed before Tarvek sighed and let Gil pull him forward with a relieved sigh. "If we get in trouble I'm telling them I'm delusional with illness and have no idea where we are--you're taking advantage of my debilitation."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Agreed; now come on."

A couple minutes later, they were crawling through some ductwork into the bowels of the ship. Tarvek said nothing--didn't even comment about them maybe being lost like he normally did. Maybe he did trust Gil after all.

The thought bolstered Gil's resolve--Tarvek was his very best friend, almost like a brother, and he was going to do this one thing to make him feel better.

He hoped.

Soon enough, they came to a grate blocking the way. Both boys peered out into a drab gray hall like all the others on the ship.

"Where are we?" Tarvek whispered, tickling the hairs on the back of Gil's neck.

"You'll see," he said just as quietly before spending several minutes working the screws from the grate with his fingers until they were raw and numb.

Together, they lowered grate and scrabbled out of the vent. Gil didn't even bother to put the grate back--barely anyone came this way--and led Tarvek down the hall.

It had taken him a while to find this place on their pilfered maps based on hearsay and conjecture. Castle Wulfenbach was the size of a small city. Thousands of people lived here year-round, and the city never landed or stayed in one place for very long.

Supply zeppelins came and went throughout the week, but it couldn't possibly be enough to keep the ship fully stocked, at least in Gil's young mind. They always had fresh fruit in the school no matter what--von Pinn said it helped growing minds and bodies develop correctly, and one time he saw the crew carrying fruit still covered in dew from somewhere in the ship when no supply craft had been scheduled to arrive.

Several days of poking around brought him to the large cavernous room tucked into the corner of the ship.

"What is this?" Tarvek asked, taking a tentative step inside.

Gil waited at the entrance for Tarvek's reaction, lower lip caught between his teeth with anxiety.

Tarvek stood motionless a few feet inside just staring up at the trees soaring above them and the glass wall built into the top of the ship beyond that. The early morning sun glinted off the dewy grass and gently swaying leaves.

When Tarvek didn't' move or say anything else, Gil finally joined him on the squishy ground. The first thing he noticed was the smell--damp and loamy. Dirt and trees and fruit and compost and a million other scents he couldn't identify having grown up inside his entire life. It smelled amazing. Much better than cookies or candles or even roasting pheasant.

Tarvek took a few more steps then a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Do you like it?" Gil asked, turning his face up to the warm sun. "I don't think most people even know we have a forest on the ship. It's crazy, isn't it? But they grow all sorts of fruits and vegetables here. And flowers. And there are birds and bees and stuff. What do you think?"

He spun to face his friend, expecting the same excitement he felt deep in his bones but found tears streaming down Tarvek's face as he choked on a sob, fist jammed in his mouth.

Gil ran to him, alarm chasing away his earlier elation. "Tarvek, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Talk to me, please." Gil felt tears welling in his own eyes and blinked them away--Tarvek needed him to be the strong one now. "Did I do something wrong again? I don't understand--you know I'm stupid when it comes to, well, being around people."

Tarvek shook his head, apparently unable to answer then just walked right past Gil into the small forest. Gil followed a few feet behind, his bloody fingers worrying the edge of his waistcoat.

Did he screw up again? He was always making such a mess of things. If only he understood people and what he was supposed to do.

He smacked himself on the head a few times, tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he croaked.

Tarvek stopped ahead of him but didn't turn.

"I didn't mean to hurt you more," Gil continued, the words coming out in a rush. “I just wanted to make you feel better, and you said you liked the smell of wet grass and then I found this place that has grass, and they make it rain in the mornings from the sprinklers up above so I thought you would like it, but I'm so stupid and don't ever understand what people want, and I'm sorry so please stop crying. Please."

The word caught in his throat as the tears overflowed down his cheek. "I don't want you to be sad anymore," he whispered. Gil squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the tears out. His chest was being crushed by an unseen vice making it hard to breathe, and the pain in his center had to be his heart shattering into a million pieces.

"You found this place for me?" Tarvek asked after a moment.

Gil nodded and wiped his face with the back of his hand that only smeared the tears and snot across his cheeks. "You said your favorite memory was a picnic with your mom in the wet grass--I thought this would remind you of it." He gestured weakly at the grassy area in the center of the trees right below the center of the glass dome.

"My mother is dead, Gil."

"Oh." His lip started to quiver again as the tears blurred his vision. "I don't have a mother either," he said softly.

"You don't even remember your parents; that’s different."

Gil looked away, his face burning with humiliation and guilt and other emotions he didn't understand. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to his now-muddy boots. "We can go."

He spun on his heel, not waiting for Tarvek's answer, but a hand grabbed his elbow, stopping his desperate retreat. Slowly, Gil turned to face his friend, not sure what to expect. He'd made a mess of things like he always did--you'd think he'd be used to that by now, but it still hurt to know he'd screwed everything up.

He was surprised to find Tarvek's expression neutral, eyes dry now. "You did this for me?" Tarvek asked again.

Gil nodded then followed Tarvek's gaze over to the trees and damp grass before returning to his friend's face as the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile. "It smells just like home," he whispered then threw his arms around Gil, hugging him tightly.

A gasp of absolute relief exploded from Gil as he relaxed into Tarvek's embrace. "Do you really like it?"

Tarvek stepped back and wiped his eyes with a nod. "It's amazing, Gil. How do they have trees on a ship? We're in the air! It's crazy; I love it. But-"

His smile fell and with it, Gil's heart. "But what?" He fiddled with the buttons on his coat, avoiding Tarvek's eyes again. He hated being so insecure.

"But," Tarvek said, grabbing Gil's hand to get his attention, "too bad we already ate breakfast. It's not really a picnic without food."

Gil looked at their joined hands then slowly up to Tarvek's smiling if blotchy face, relief filling him--maybe he hadn't completely messed everything else. "But you didn't eat," he said softly, "you spilled your food on the floor."

Tarvek laughed. "You mean, you threw my food on the floor."

Gil laughed too because it was all so ridiculous. "It worked didn't it?"

"I could have just told them I was still sick--they would have believed me."

Gil shrugged. "What's the fun in that?"

Tarvek shook his head and squeezed Gil's hand before letting it go. "My life would be so boring without you, Gil."

Gil's heart shot into his throat as his emotions soared. "So you still like me?"

Tarvek gave him a weird look. "You're my best friend, Gil--I love you, you know."

Gil nearly knocked Tarvek over in a crushing hug before darting off into the trees.

"What are you doing?" Tarvek asked, laughing as Gil scrambled up a tree like a monkey.

A moment later, Gil hopped down from a branch right in front of Tarvek and dumped an armload of fruit into Tarvek's fumbling hands. Then he stripped off his coat with a flourish, laying it out on the ground. "Ta-da--a picnic!"

Tarvek laughed harder. "It's brilliant, and I'm starving since someone used my breakfast as an escape mechanism."

Gil plopped down on a corner of the coat. "Do you, like, read the dictionary for fun or something?"

Tarvek threw a cherry, bouncing it off of Gil's head who snatched it out of the air in an impressive show of speed and agility then popped it into his mouth.

Shaking his head, Tarvek sat next to Gil and bit into an apple with a sigh. "This is almost like home in the spring when the snow has melted and it's starting to get warm."

"Do you miss it?" Gil asked, laying back with his hands behind his head to stare through the glass dome at the clouds drifting by.

"Sometimes," he said then chewed his lip for a moment. "But there are lots of things I like about being here, too."

"Like what?" Gil said, waggling his eyebrows until Tarvek tossed a handful of wet grass at him.

"Fishing for compliments is beneath you."

"The ground is the only thing beneath me."

Tarvek rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

The two boys laughed until their stomachs hurt then kicked off their shoes and dug their toes into the soft grass.

"So you never got to answer Miss Ziegler's question," Tarvek said suddenly. "What is your favorite smell?"

Gil took a deep breath, senses overwhelmed by the scent of the grass still stuck to his cheek then glanced over at Tarvek. "I don't know--I'm kind of leaning towards wet grass, too."

[ Part 17 ]