#there's just a lot on my mind........but then hopefully next week is just redoing my capstone blog proposal with my group

[shiningstages]

Me: *says I won’t be on here until mid-December*

Also Me: *checking in here every other day to keep up with conversations / content* hewwo

[bbangsuns]

don’t break my heart again | r.c

warnings: angst, slight nsfw themes, rafe is just a little ooc but not much, terrible writing, mentions of drug addiction and overdoses, ward cameron. i think that’s it?

a/n: part 2 to this fic. this won’t have a lot of smut, but if you guys want a 3rd part with just smut i’ll write one <3

a/n part 2: i’m not happy with this ending at all i might redo it soon 🧍🏽‍♀️also this isn’t beta’d so sorry if there are any mistakes

word count: 1.4k

after your talk at the chateau with the pogues, you made the decision to head to your brothers house for the first time in a few weeks, wanting to rest as much as possible before you talked to rafe.

you knew it would be difficult to sleep after everything that happened, but you never expected it to be damn near impossible. after tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like years with the big red ‘1:37 A.M.’ taunting you from your alarm, you decided to go for a walk on the beach to hopefully tire yourself out. climbing out of bed and putting on your shoes, you opened your window as carefully as possible, trying to not wake your older brother up and slipped out, extremely grateful for the fact that you lived in a one story house.

the walk to the beach was peaceful, the sounds of nature soothing your nerves almost instantly. arriving to the beach in 10 minutes, your eyes were immediately drawn to the figure sitting near the shore, your body tensing up once again. however as you moved closer, you were almost positive you knew exactly who it was, and your suspicions were confirmed as soon as you got close enough and spoke.

“rafe?” his head whipped around so fast you thought the poor boy would get whiplash. he went to stand but you stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, opting to sit down right next to him. you could feel his eyes on you and turned your head, and even in the low light you could see his bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, assuming he’s been picking and biting at them all day. you went to softly reprimand him for his bad habit, but he beat you to it.

“i’m so sorry, doll. you have no idea how much I regret saying those words to you. i was just so fucking frustrated after my fight with ward and i know you were just trying to help me feel better, and i know that’s no excuse but i wasn’t thinking.” he breathed out, his voice cracking at the last few words. staring at the broken boy in front of you, you couldn’t help but bring your hand up to his cheek, caressing it lightly. rafe’s eyes fluttered shut and his shoulders sagged slightly, leaning into your touch and you took this opportunity to speak.

“what you said really hurt me, rafe. it made me feel so small and belittled. now, i know you weren’t in the right state of mind because of ward and i tried not taking it so personally, but god hearing that from the person you love more than anything is something that shakes your core no matter how badly you wish it didn’t.” you said it with a voice so full of hurt that rafe felt a shiver go down his spine, hating that he was the cause of all the pain you’ve been feeling over the last few months. he went to open his mouth to speak again but you shook your head, signaling you weren’t finished so he closed his mouth, staring at you.

“i know you’ve been going through a lot with ward and the high expectations he has for you, but the way you’ve been coping has been hurting me and our relationship. every time you have a fight with ward and storm out of the house, i stay awake wondering when or if you’ll come home. and if you don’t come home, i imagine the worst scenario, asking myself if you got into an accident because you drove home high, or if you took it too far this time with the cocaine and you overdosed somewhere i wouldn’t be able to find you. it terrifies me beyond words, rafe, and i don’t know how much more i can take before it’s all too much.” by the end of your confession you were crying again, the tears spilling out of your eyes and your breathing becoming erratic. you removed your hand from rafe’s cheek, pressing your palms into your eyes harshly, attempting to keep the tears from falling anymore.

rafe didn’t know what to say, his heart breaking all over again at the sight of you crumbling in front of him. he felt his hands shaking, his own tears slipping out at the fact that he’d been neglecting you and making you sick with worry for so long. he truthfully hated himself for it, but he felt the desperation in him, the need to try and fix your relationship any way he could. wiping his face, he grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your eyes, using one hand to hold both of yours, his other one was now on your cheek, turning your face towards him. his thumb stroked the skin, wiping away the tears that continued falling.

“i’m sorry for never noticing how much you were hurting. i’m sorry for pushing you away when all you wanted to do was help me. i know i haven’t shown it for a while, but you’re truly the best thing that has ever happened to me and i’ll do anything to show you that. whatever you want, i’ll do it because i can’t stand to ever lose you.”

the way he spoke to you, the slight panic in his voice and watery eyes, you knew he was being genuine. but, there was a part of you that was still skeptical, scared that he wouldn’t be able to keep his word and he’d slip back into his addiction, and you don’t think you’d be able to handle that cycle again. rafe noticed your hesitation, his stomach sinking at the idea that you wouldn’t want to stay with him after what he’s put you through. as he went to say something else, you interrupted him.

“i want you to stop using drugs, rafe. if you can’t do it on your own, you can go to a rehab facility on the mainland and i’ll go with you, maybe find an apartment there or something. but i need you to do it, love. if not for me, do it for yourself. i wouldn’t be able to handle something happening to you all because of that shit you’re putting in your body.” you spoke with a certain determination, almost demanding that he stop chasing a high, and rafe wasn’t dumb. he knew that if he didn’t get his shit together, you wouldn’t stick around to watch him slowly kill himself, for fear it would kill you inside too. so, he agreed to quitting, not willing to risk seeing you walk away.

“i’ll do it. i’ll do whatever it takes to fix things between us, i just don’t wanna lose you.”

you looked at him, a small smile on your face knowing he would never truly lose you. you kept that thought to yourself as you leaned in, placing your lips on his to which he kissed back immediately, moving his hand to the back of your neck to keep you close. you broke the kiss only to seat yourself on his lap, and you connected your lips as soon as you sat down, wrapping your arms around his neck. biting your bottom lip, rafe took advantage of the small moan that left you and slid his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. sliding your hands under his shirt, you tugged at it, wanting to remove it as fast as possible. he pulled away from your lips, quickly removing his shirt and attached his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he left a trail of wet kisses all the way to your collarbone. rafe moved you off his lap, laying you on the sand and hovering over you, one hand slipping under your shirt, his thumb and index finger grabbing your nipple and rolling it between them, causing a low whine to leave your lips.

“rafe, don’t mess with me. just make me feel good.” it came out as more of a whine, a small pout on your lips. after going so long with him not touching you, you just wanted to feel all of him, sand be damned; you’d deal with that annoying detail later. rafe just laughed at you softly, leaning back on his feet to look down at you.

“whatever you want, baby”

that night you didn’t leave the beach until almost dawn, not wanting to risk anyone seeing anything, but you both left feeling the happiest you’d ever been in a long time. pure ecstasy was flowing through your body knowing that you and rafe were going to be okay and that your relationship was going to be stronger than ever.

[bvannn]

Weekly update March 22, 2024

I’m still exhausted beyond words. I’m also on a bit of a spiral where I’m worried about the quality of my art and about my output, but it’s okay because I’m chipping away at old big projects still and as soon as classwork is subsided I’m going to try to learn a new skill, because any time I feel insufficient I learn a new skill so I can be better. Classes have been kicking my ass mostly but hopefully big things will be coming sooner rather than later.

I’ve been doing a number of drawings to time myself and update my comms. Turns out I’m a lot less consistent than I thought so it’ll be a bit longer till I get prices sorted out but it’s coming along. Also good chance I’ll add more on to it later once I sort out more things I can offer. My usual drawing style will be the main one, but I’m hoping I can also add the epithet erased style, the chibi dnd mini style I do sometimes, options for backgrounds, and eventually also music.

Problem with music though has been my exhaustion. The only music stuff I’ve really been drilling at has been bigger projects, but I’d like to just sit down and do a small beat as well at some point. Once I catch up with classwork I might try. I have been chipping away at a couple instrumental pieces, as well as the larger vocal cover and I did some lyric writing today for the two ‘finished mostly’ ones I’ve been sitting on. I did have to scrap and redo a character theme for the second time this week but once I have some time with a clear mind I can reroute that one and use the melody I wrote for the last draft. In development right now are an ambient character theme, a 16bit-ish instrumental theme, a Zelda medley, a song cover with Kyo, a small gabber song with no affiliation to anything, the two original vocal songs, one symphonic rock and one EDM, and a handful of others that I haven’t been actively working on. As soon as I have significant time I’m going to try to finish off some of them.

Once the music is finished I’ll have to throw visuals together for them too. I really want to put in effort to make animation rigs again but I don’t have the time or energy. I might do one for the vocal cover song since I could be reusing the character but I’m not sure it’ll be necessary. Once the cover is done I’ll storyboard something and decide then.

Comic is also still going, I haven’t had a ton of time to do thumbnailing/writing, but I should be down to the last scene. No guarantee I won’t have to add more after editing, but it’s getting there. Once that’s done I’ll try to post roughs of specific panels so it’s a bit easier to keep track of where it’s at. The thumbnailing is a big bottleneck right now because it takes a lot of brain power but it’s almost done. If I get myself together this next week it should be done by the next update. No promises though, I have a lot of classwork.

Last couple things, a good amount of my exhaustion is the result of insomnia, but I’ve been using that time to plan out TTRPG campaign stuff. I think I have some really fun creative encounters. I think I probably will try to write it out and find a way to release it, just in the interest of getting more people to play the anime campaign system (or whatever they end up renaming it to when the epithet erased version of the rules drops… eventually). I might throw together art for that too, but that’ll be a ways off, after the writing and encounters are done. Plus ideally I’d want the module to be available for free, so I don’t need to add too much anyway.

Last thing, as I mentioned I’m a bit unsatisfied with where I am with art stuff. I want to thank everyone who has been sticking around, I am trying to make it worthwhile for you too. But whenever I am unsatisfied with myself I need to learn a new skill, so I may be dipping my toes into pixel art soon. I do have that 16bit ish instrumental song I mentioned, that’s been on the back burner since January but I’ve finally been hit with the inspiration to finish it, and a little pixel animation would be nice to go with it, but that would require me to learn pixel art itself first, so I’ll try to do that in the coming weeks. Idk how soon though.

This next week will be primarily dedicated to clearing up schoolwork and fixing my sleep problem. After that I’ll try finishing up that cover song, finishing up comic thumbnailing, and finishing up that instrumental song, in that order. Anything else is a bonus. Will class work and insomnia get in the way? Probably, but I’m still doing my best.

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[allisas]

[ Original Blog Post ]

THE SIMS 4 DREAM HOME DECORATOR GAME PACK

Sul sul! I’m Patina Wainscot*, and I’m thrilled you could join me today for what I’m calling Dream Home Decorator 101. We’re diving deep into the ins and outs of designing for clients because that’s the main thing to remember: it’s all about making your clients happy!

ALL ABOUT CLIENTS

Take it from me: the best designs start with the Sims you’re creating for. I never go into a project without getting to know my clients first—at least, not if I plan to be successful. Back in my early days, I made that mistake a lot. Once, I planned a whole space around the gnome statue in the middle of my client’s living room—come to find out, that Sim was terrified of the gnome and wanted it gone!

Everyone has Preferences, you know? Likes and Dislikes matter when it comes to decorating. So ask questions! Find out their favorite color and music genre and decor style. Ask about the things that inspire them, if they have any hobbies, what their favorite pieces are. Walk them through color swatches and maybe some of the work in your portfolio. Take a few Before pictures for the client, too. After all, the more you know about someone, the easier it is to imagine a space that will truly bring them joy.

Remember to keep it professional, though! (Shower before you arrive. Trust me.) Every interaction impacts your reputation, and if you want to move up to bigger gigs, that matters.

ALL ABOUT RENOVATIONS

Once you’ve gotten a feel for what your client wants, nudge them out the door and turn your attention to the space around you. Sometimes clients want to redo the nursery, or add an in-law unit. I even had a Sim ask for a gym in the basement once. Whatever the task, I’m sure you’re up for it. Simply follow the budget, the client’s preferences, the available tile count, and the client’s actual ask.

(Sidebar: okay, yes, sometimes the requests get a little… weird. It’s your job to do what you can, though. I could share some wild stories, but client-designer confidentiality is a professional courtesy.)

Start with an empty space by selling off the items you can’t use (it’s a good budget tip, too!). Then, it’s all up to you to make your client’s dreams come true.

I personally love this phase of a project. Maybe Sims tend to be a little messy, so why not play around with modular shelving units for innovative storage solutions? Open concept is very in right now, and sectional sofas divide living spaces from the kitchen perfectly while keeping a roomy, airy atmosphere. And speaking of the kitchen, built-in appliances like ovens and stovetops save space too. For kids’ rooms, bunk beds are my go-to. As children grow, it’s easy to change the configuration and add a desk for homework!

My point is, don’t be afraid to play around. Sometimes the unexpected works best, and sometimes you’ll have a tried-and-true solution in mind.

ALL ABOUT REVEALS

Once you finish the work, there’s just one thing left: the reveal! Once you’ve perfected the space, invite the client back to see the results. Personally, this is the moment I live for. That first reaction means the world to me. Whether Sims cry, throw their arms around me, or immediately start daydreaming, I always know when I’ve done a good job, and it’s amazingly fun to show off the Before and After photos.

So many factors go into whether or not a gig is successful. Did you stay within the budget? Build around your client’s preferences? Complete your objective? Were you respectful and fun? Hopefully, the answer to all of these questions is “YES!” Not only does it make your client happy and make you feel good, but it improves your reputation as a decorator. After all, people love to talk about things they love. So make them love their space!

A FEW EXTRA TIPS

Speaking of reputation, the more you get your name out there, the more gigs open up to you. Start with something small like a room remodel; by the time you’ve reached my level, you’ll be redesigning the neighborhood bar! Client referrals make a real difference, but I used to blog and promote myself on social media, too. Now, you can watch me on the home decorator channel!

Every Sim is different. I know, I know, I’ve said that a few times now, but I really mean it! In households with more than one occupant, sometimes it gets tough to balance what they want. Maybe two Sims have different color preferences; if you can’t make both work together, find some common ground to focus on instead. And never assume you know what a client will ask for! I had an adult client ask for a kids’ tent once—turns out, it was for their nephew!

And last but not least, the most important advice I have: just have fun with it. Remember why you chose this path. You’re a dream home maker, after all.

Thank you for coming to my Sims Talk. I’ll catch you on the home decorating channel soon! And don’t forget to follow The Sims Instagram—I have a new series called Spaces With Patina that I’m super excited to share!

The Sims™ 4 Dream Home Decorator Game Pack** arrives on June 1, 2021, at 10:00 a.m. PT in your region on Origin (for Mac and PC), Steam, Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation®4, and PlayStation®5!

We have a lot planned in the next few weeks as the Summer of Sims kicks into high gear! The launch of Dream Home Decorator is just one bright spot to look forward to, so make sure you’ve got your sunglasses—we’ve absolutely packed the next few weeks!

*Patina is a decorator extraordinaire, but she’s also a Sim, so this has been translated from Simlish. 😉

**REQUIRES THE SIMS 4 (SOLD SEPARATELY) AND ALL GAME UPDATES. FOR PC, SEE MINIMUM SYSTEM REQUIREMENTS FOR THE PACK.

[thesims4blogger]

OFFICIAL BLOG: Dreams Come True in The Sims 4 Dream Home Decorator

Maxis has released the official blog for The Sims 4 Dream Home Decorator Game Pack!

Sul sul! I’m Patina Wainscot*, and I’m thrilled you could join me today for what I’m calling Dream Home Decorator 101. We’re diving deep into the ins and outs of designing for clients because that’s the main thing to remember: it’s all about making your clients happy!

All About Clients

Take it from me: the best designs start with the Sims you’re creating for. I never go into a project without getting to know my clients first—at least, not if I plan to be successful. Back in my early days, I made that mistake a lot. Once, I planned a whole space around the gnome statue in the middle of my client’s living room—come to find out, that Sim was terrified of the gnome and wanted it gone!

Everyone has Preferences, you know? Likes and Dislikes matter when it comes to decorating. So ask questions! Find out their favorite color and music genre and decor style. Ask about the things that inspire them, if they have any hobbies, what their favorite pieces are. Walk them through color swatches and maybe some of the work in your portfolio. Take a few Before pictures for the client, too. After all, the more you know about someone, the easier it is to imagine a space that will truly bring them joy.

Remember to keep it professional, though! (Shower before you arrive. Trust me.) Every interaction impacts your reputation, and if you want to move up to bigger gigs, that matters.

All About Renovations

Once you’ve gotten a feel for what your client wants, nudge them out the door and turn your attention to the space around you. Sometimes clients want to redo the nursery, or add an in-law unit. I even had a Sim ask for a gym in the basement once. Whatever the task, I’m sure you’re up for it. Simply follow the budget, the client’s preferences, the available tile count, and the client’s actual ask.

(Sidebar: okay, yes, sometimes the requests get a little… weird. It’s your job to do what you can, though. I could share some wild stories, but client-designer confidentiality is a professional courtesy.)

Start with an empty space by selling off the items you can’t use (it’s a good budget tip, too!). Then, it’s all up to you to make your client’s dreams come true.

I personally love this phase of a project. Maybe Sims tend to be a little messy, so why not play around with modular shelving units for innovative storage solutions? Open concept is very in right now, and sectional sofas divide living spaces from the kitchen perfectly while keeping a roomy, airy atmosphere. And speaking of the kitchen, built-in appliances like ovens and stovetops save space too. For kids’ rooms, bunk beds are my go-to. As children grow, it’s easy to change the configuration and add a desk for homework!

My point is, don’t be afraid to play around. Sometimes the unexpected works best, and sometimes you’ll have a tried-and-true solution in mind.

All About Reveals

Once you finish the work, there’s just one thing left: the reveal! Once you’ve perfected the space, invite the client back to see the results. Personally, this is the moment I live for. That first reaction means the world to me. Whether Sims cry, throw their arms around me, or immediately start daydreaming, I always know when I’ve done a good job, and it’s amazingly fun to show off the Before and After photos.

So many factors go into whether or not a gig is successful. Did you stay within the budget? Build around your client’s preferences? Complete your objective? Were you respectful and fun? Hopefully, the answer to all of these questions is “YES!” Not only does it make your client happy and make you feel good, but it improves your reputation as a decorator. After all, people love to talk about things they love. So make them love their space!

A Few Extra Tips

Speaking of reputation, the more you get your name out there, the more gigs open up to you. Start with something small like a room remodel; by the time you’ve reached my level, you’ll be redesigning the neighborhood bar! Client referrals make a real difference, but I used to blog and promote myself on social media, too. Now, you can watch me on the home decorator channel!

Every Sim is different. I know, I know, I’ve said that a few times now, but I really mean it! In households with more than one occupant, sometimes it gets tough to balance what they want. Maybe two Sims have different color preferences; if you can’t make both work together, find some common ground to focus on instead. And never assume you know what a client will ask for! I had an adult client ask for a kids’ tent once—turns out, it was for their nephew!

And last but not least, the most important advice I have: just have fun with it. Remember why you chose this path. You’re a dream home maker, after all.

Thank you for coming to my Sims Talk. I’ll catch you on the home decorating channel soon! And don’t forget to follow The Sims Instagram—I have a new series called Spaces With Patina that I’m super excited to share!

The Sims™ 4 Dream Home Decorator Game Pack** arrives on June 1, 2021, at 10:00 a.m. PT in your region on Origin (for Mac and PC), Steam, Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation®4, and PlayStation®5!

Start planning your designs with your fellow players on The Sims Forums; catch up with us on Twitter and Instagram; like us on Facebook; and subscribe to our YouTube channel. You can also sign up for The Sims 4 newsletter to get all the news as soon as it’s announced.

We have a lot planned in the next few weeks as the Summer of Sims kicks into high gear! The launch of Dream Home Decorator is just one bright spot to look forward to, so make sure you’ve got your sunglasses—we’ve absolutely packed the next few weeks!

*Patina is a decorator extraordinaire, but she’s also a Sim, so this has been translated from Simlish.

[vampire--dad]

Part 1 of my Witcher!Jaskier fic (that originally just started as a Geraskier drabble thing and spiralled wildly out of control) (and also doesn’t have a title yet bear with me here)

——————

“Roach, you take care of him now, won’t you?” Jaskier says softly, petting her nose. She huffs and nudges his chest. He chuckles. “Good. Keep him out of trouble.”

“And you give me shit for talking to her,” says a familiar gruff voice. Geralt approaches the stables with his pack slung over his shoulder, clad in his black armour. Jaskier pulls an apple from his pocket and offers it to the horse, who chomps it down happily.

“Well yes, because you’re always so bossy and grouchy with her. Someone’s got to be nice to her. She’s a wonderful horse.”

Geralt sets his pack over the back of the saddle before turning to Jaskier with his arms folded, ignoring the comment.

“I don’t need the horse to take care of me or keep me out of trouble.”

“Sure you do. She always brings you back in one piece, don’t you, Roach?”

“Jaskier, I don’t need to be taken care of.”

Jaskier sighs and shakes his head, finally turning to face the witcher. His yellow eyes stare into his soul, reigniting a fire he’s spent years trying to put out.

“Fine… but bring yourself back here safely, alright?”

He regrets saying it to his face, but he means it. Over the years, Jaskier has learned to carefully conceal how much he cares for Geralt. He knows it won’t go anywhere. He knows Geralt doesn’t feel the same. He can’t. He’s a witcher. He’s not capable of it. Yet Jaskier still yearns for him.

Geralt scoffs and lifts himself onto Roach’s back. “What, worried you’ll lose your main source of income?” he says with a mocking tone. Jaskier hides how the comment stings. Is that really what Geralt thinks he sticks around for? That’s just an excuse to stay. The witcher digs his heels into Roach’s sides and rides off without another word.

“Yeah, something like that…”

It only takes two days for the townspeople to start asking where the witcher is. They fear he’s dead. Jaskier brushes off their worries and fills the air with fantastical stories instead. It’s not uncommon for Geralt to be gone for days at a time. It’s not until the end of the first week that Jaskier finds himself starting to worry as well. The innkeeper is kind enough to let him stay until the witcher comes back, so long as he fills the hall with music. Performing becomes a distraction from the worry that gnaws at the corners of his mind. Geralt has never been gone for more than a week.

As he lays in bed among the scratchy old sheets, he faces the fact that this worry is borne from more than just concern for a friend. He knows that if something were to happen to Geralt, it’d kill him too. And he knows he’s an idiot for caring so much. Witchers don’t feel. That’s what Geralt has always told him. He never believed it until he realised he was in love with him. Then it became a crushing truth. Geralt could never care for him the same way he does. It’s not the witcher’s fault, it’s his own. He wishes he could stop, wishes he could put out the fire that burns under his heart and burns it to a crisp every time Geralt looks at him.

By the end of the second week, the innkeeper threatens to throw him out if he spends another night in his room moping. The worry consumes every corner of his mind now. He tries to sleep. It doesn’t work. He waits by the window, staring at the town’s gates. Waiting for the White Wolf to ride back into town unscathed. But he doesn’t. Rather, he’s carried by two men, covered in blood. Roach follows behind them. Jaskier races out the door, crying the witcher’s name.

“We found him in the forest,” the men say as they struggle to carry an unconscious witcher to a bed in the inn. “He killed… whatever that thing was, but it just about killed him.”

Jaskier barely hears them. He grabs his pack and spends hours tending to each wound on Geralt’s body, only to find that another one has started to bleed what little blood he has left. He peels the blood-soaked clothes off his back. He can’t tell what of it is Geralt’s and what’s from the monster. It doesn’t particularly matter. He notices as he tends to a wound on the witcher’s temple that he feels cold. Geralt always feels cold, but his skin is practically freezing. Jaskier curses. The bastard can’t die on him yet, he won’t let him. Roach is lucky the stable boys like her and care for her free of charge.

He stays by Geralt’s side for days. He quickly turns from freezing cold to hot to the touch. Jaskier spends what little coin he can spare on herbs to treat the infection. The witcher never wakes, but he groans in pain in his sleep. Each one feels like a punch to the gut for Jaskier. He tries to be gentle, but since he doesn’t know where the infection is coming from, he needs to clean all of the wounds as best as he can. The shallow ones are all but gone within a few days. He’s never quite gotten used to how quickly his wounds heal, but it’s at least slightly comforting to have less to deal with.

Geralt doesn’t wake till the fourth day of Jaskier tending to him. The bard is hunched over his bare torso, redressing a wound that runs along his ribcage. He’s done well to ignore how bloody good Geralt looks without a shirt on. He sits back only to find a pair of yellow eyes staring at him and just about jumps out of his skin.

“Bloody hell, Geralt! You could have said something…”

The witcher grunts and sits up slowly, Jaskier’s hands bracing his broad shoulders as he assesses the damage done to him.

“Careful, careful,” Jaskier cautions him. “How do you feel?”

Geralt winces slightly, but pain is almost familiar to him by now.

“Fine,” he grumbles. Jaskier resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“You had an infection. I think it’s gone, but you need to rest.”

“We need to go. We’ve been here too long.”

Jaskier inhales sharply. “Geralt, you’re going to pull your stitches if we leave now, and I’m out of thread to redo them, so unless you plan on sacrificing a shirt to me so I can stitch you back together—”

Geralt ignores him. They’ve spent far too long in this town. It’s better if they keep moving. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, stumbling slightly as he stands for the first time in about a week. Jaskier throws his hands up in defeat as he searches through his pack for a clean shirt.

“I’ll be fine, Jaskier,” he says with his back turned to the bard. It’s a good thing, too, for the witcher doesn’t see the pained and worried expression on his face.

They set off with Roach and what little food Jaskier can talk out of the innkeeper. The bard isn’t much of a hunter, but he’ll have to try if they plan on reaching the next town without starving, and the gods only know he won’t let Geralt hunt in such a state. Hopefully he can score them a squirrel at the very least.

He can tell the witcher is in pain. He winces at every step Roach takes that jostles him a little too hard. Jaskier can’t help but feel as though all his hard work to keep the bastard alive is going unappreciated. It always does, really, but this time it hurts a little more. He would have died if not for Jaskier’s care and the cold nights he spent sleeping on the floor so Geralt could rest.

They set up camp beside the narrow path that winds through the forest as night falls. Jaskier is quick to set up a fire before Geralt can, yet again finding himself wondering why he bothers. Geralt has never noticed the things he does for him, what would make him start now?

“What’s wrong?” the witcher asks unexpectedly.

“Nothing,” Jaskier lies. A lot is wrong, but Geralt doesn’t need to know. Probably wouldn’t care if he did.

“Something is bothering you. Spit it out.”

Geralt knows something is wrong when the bard is quiet, but he’s never been that short with him. Usually he’s the one giving monotonous one word answers. Jaskier stares into their campfire without a word. He’s stressed. He’s tired of how Geralt brushes him off, how he never thanks him for caring for him. He supposes it’s because he shouldn’t. Geralt has always made it clear he’d rather be left to his own devices, but Jaskier can’t help but scramble after him in futile hopes that one day it will all be worth it.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says impatiently. The annoyance in his tone fuels the bard’s anger. “Spit it out. What’s wrong?”

“Damn it, Geralt, you blithering idiot!!” Jaskier shouts. Years of longing and loneliness built up inside him all come out at once. “I waited in that inn for two weeks for you to come back. I thought you were dead! Then you’re carried back into the town, unconscious and covered in blood, and I nurse you back to health as per fucking usual. And you act like nothing happened, like you didn’t almost die out there. Not even a ‘thank you’ for making sure you didn’t die of an infection or for staying in that rotten inn for two weeks. Waiting for you. You never think of anyone but yourself, you prick! I’m fucking over this. I’m done.”

Jaskier grabs his things and storms off into the forest. Geralt watches him in silence until he fades out of view. Roach grumbles and nudges his shoulder with her nose. Of all things, the last thing he expected was to feel guilty… but Jaskier is right. He waited for him. He always has. He’s always the one who tends to his wounds and stitches him back together so as to not leave too much of a mark. Jaskier has followed him across this land for years and for all those years, Geralt has ignored the signs. He knows Jaskier cares for him more than he’s ever let on. He can’t deny that deep down he cares for him, too. He just never wanted to face it. It was easier not to, easier to wait for the fire in both of them to die out, and safer. But it never did. Roach headbutts his arm impatiently. He growls and pats her nose.

“I know,” he grumbles.

He sets off after the bard, following the bitter scent of his anger along an invisible path. Slowly the anger fades to regret, a sour scent that stings Geralt’s nose, but he follows it anyway. He finds himself reaching for his sword at every sound the forest makes. He should never have let Jaskier run off like that, not at night. He’s going to get himself hurt. The sour scent of regret starts to become richer and Geralt finds himself feeling guiltier and guiltier as he follows the smell of sadness. He scrubs his nose as it itches at the smell.

He treks until he finds Jaskier sitting on a log, his head in his hands, a mess of frustration, sadness, and fear. He doesn’t know where the hell he’s going. He just wanted to get away from Geralt, but now that he’s not here he realises what an idiot he is. All he has is the small dagger Geralt gave to him. He’s got no chance of fighting off anything bigger than a dog. Geralt stares at him and finds his chest aching with guilt. It takes him a while to work up the courage to say anything.

“Jaskier.”

The bard’s head shoots up at the sound, but his fearful expression quickly turns to one of disgust as his blue eyes fall on the witcher. He turns his back to him.

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

Jaskier groans and grabs his things, anger bubbling up in his chest yet again. “Just fuck off, you asshole. I don’t need your—”

“I’m sorry.”

They stand in silence for a moment, Jaskier’s back to Geralt. The moonlight shines through the trees on his soft brown hair. His eyes start to sting, his bags slipping from his grasp and back to the ground. He dares not turn around. It’d kill him if Geralt saw him cry. Eventually, the witcher speaks up again. He doesn’t know where the words come from, but they spill out of his mouth.

“I’ve taken you for granted for so many years and I’m sorry. I never appreciated you. You’ve always waited for me and taken care of me, and I was never as grateful as I should have been. I’m sorry, Jask.”

Tears start to fall from Jaskier’s eyes as Geralt speaks. The desperation in his voice gives the bard hope he knows he shouldn’t have. Before he can say something stupid to ease the tension, Geralt says something that shakes him to his very core.

“I know how much you care about me, Jask. I always have. I don’t know why you do, given how I treat you, but I know…”

His voice trails off, but something tells Jaskier that he’s not finished. He’s just trying to figure out how to say it.

“I do care about you. I’ve just never known how to show it. I always thought being a witcher was more important and… it was safer to push you away. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Geralt stares at the back of the bard’s head. He’s never been good with words. What he said doesn’t even capture half of what he meant, but he’s surprised he came up with that alone. Jaskier doesn’t move for a moment, then all of a sudden he turns on his heel and throws himself into Geralt’s arms. He’s longed to hear those words for years. It’s all too much for him. He tries his best to hold back his tears, but a few sobs slip from his throat. Geralt doesn’t say anything, he just holds Jaskier and pets his hair gently.

Eventually, Jaskier pulls away and scrubs the tears from his face with his sleeve, cursing under his breath. He’s a mess. His eyes dart about, looking anywhere but at Geralt until he says his name again.

“Jaskier…”

There’s a tinge of worry in Geralt’s voice he’s never heard. His blue eyes shine as he looks at the witcher. A pair of golden eyes stare back under a brow furrowed with concern. His own voice shakes with the strain of choking back tears.

“You always told me witchers couldn’t feel,” he says.

“I lied. It’s easier if people believe that we don’t feel… even you.”

Jaskier nods and sniffles softly.

“Do you mean it?” he asks. He has to. After all these years, he has to ask. Geralt reaches out and gently caresses his cheek with a gloved hand.

“I mean it,” he says definitively.

Jaskier doesn’t think. He just throws himself at Geralt, kissing him like it’ll kill him if he doesn’t. The witcher holds him close, his lips cold and bitter. It’s relieving. It’s overwhelming. Jaskier feels like his heart has caught on fire. Geralt thinks he’s going to melt in Jaskier’s warm embrace. Eventually their lips part and Jaskier gently brushes the hair from Geralt’s eyes. Geralt doesn’t let him go. If he’s going to allow himself to love Jaskier, he’s never going to let him go again.

“Come back to the camp,” he says softly. Jaskier nods and reluctantly slips from Geralt’s arms to grab his things. As he slings his bag over his back, he begins to apologise.

“I’m sorry I stormed off and called you a—”

“Don’t be. You had every right to,” Geralt cuts him off. The guilt of how he has treated Jaskier still lingers in his chest, so he’ll bury it with affection and that wonderful warm feeling he got when the bard kissed him. He slips off his gloves, and takes Jaskier’s hand as they walk back to the road together.

[onewomancitadel]

Fic update

Okay I literally just made a post and changed my mind so here’s a redo:

I’ve had a few comments/asks wondering when the next chapter update is for The Distance Which Fools the Skimming Eye, I’m sorry this is the most delayed update. A lot of personal stuff going on and the thesis is driving me crazy (in the clinical sense).

It’ll come next weekend, because we need a definite date but it’s not coming tonight lol. I don’t want readers to be afraid I’m not finishing it so I'm avoiding (now) being wishy washy. I know WIPs can be offputting for that reason but I fully intend to finish it.

Hopefully once my thesis is out of the way, I can actually be at a point this summer (southern hemisphere lol) where I’m at least putting out two chapters a week so I’m finished by V9 (my personal deadline), that or at least further enough along I don’t feel embarrassed about canon Vacuo and my Vacuo, plus the whole, you know, Cinder/Jaune business.

Finally, thank you so much if you are a reader and you are also reading this, I really appreciate you taking the time to look at my fic. (:

[anotherspnfanfic]

Nobody Fights Alone - Part 6

Pairing: Eddie x reader

Word count: 2024

Warnings: cancer, language, brief panic attack

A/N: This is it!! The final part of this series co-written with @spnirwin! We hope you have enjoyed is as much as we have!

Series Masterlist

Part 5

—

It had been twelve days since your final chemo treatment. You were still feeling the effects, though they had started to improve slightly over the last two days. Exhausted, you laid in bed wide awake. The next morning you had an appointment to go over your test results to see if the chemo had worked.

Eddie came into the bedroom and got into bed beside you. He pulled you over to rest your head on his chest and wrapped his arms around you. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

You took a deep breath as you moved your hand to grip a fistful of his shirt. “Nope. Not at all. I’ll be surprised if I actually get any sleep.”

He squeezed you just a little tighter. “It’ll be okay. No matter what the tests say, we'll get through it.”

Eddie started to run his hand up and down your back. Eventually, you managed to fall asleep.

—

The next morning as you got ready to leave, you felt your fear and worry start to grow out of control. Next thing you knew, you were sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. Your arms were wrapped around your legs as you curled up as tight as possible. You started to feel light-headed as you realized you were hyperventilating.

“Are you almost—” Eddie started to ask before he appeared in the doorway. “Y/N? What happened?” He was beside you a moment later.

“W-what i-if it d-didn’t do any-anything?” You stuttered out between gasps.

“Then we will deal with it, together.” He placed both hands on your cheeks to force you to meet his eyes. “You have to breathe. Take a deep breath.” He took a few deep breaths for you to follow.

It took a few moments but you managed to calm down some and get your breathing under control.

“That’s better,” he said. He stood and helped you up. “Either way, we have to know.”

You nodded. “You’re right. I think I’m ready to go.”

Half an hour later, you were sitting in front of Dr. Alexander, trying to read the expression on her face.

Your knee was bouncing with your nerves until Eddie reached over to gently squeeze your thigh.

Finally, Dr. Alexander broke into a small smile as she pulled out the scans. “There are still cancer markers in your blood work, but the tumor itself is gone.”

You released the breath you were holding. “Okay, so what now?”

“Now, we take this as a win. We will redo the scans and blood work in six months to make sure the tumor doesn’t grow back,” she explained.

“Okay,” you said as you glanced over to Eddie. He looked relieved. Once again, you felt a little like you might be dreaming.

You left the office and Eddie drove you home. After closing the door to the apartment, Eddie turned to face you. He grabbed your shoulders and studied your face for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded. Suddenly, all the emotions from the day hit you like a freight train. Tears welled up in your eyes and you slumped over against Eddie. “The tumor is gone,” you mumbled, repeatedly.

“Yeah, you’re kicking cancer in the ass.” He chuckled as he held you. He slowly moved the two of you over to sit on the couch.

You lost track of how long you sat there. Eventually, the tears turned to small sniffles and your eyelids started to feel heavy.

“We have to call Evan and tell him,” you mumbled, already half asleep.

Eddie kissed the top of your head. “I texted him earlier. You can call him later. Get some sleep.”

—

“Y/N?” Your head shot up as you heard your name called across the waiting room of the doctor’s office.

“You ready?” Eddie asked. He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze.

You looked at him and smiled, nodding your head. Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked across the waiting room and met the nurse at the door.

“Six month checkup, right? How are you feeling?” the nurse asked. She was leading you down a long hallway towards the exam room you had grown extremely familiar with.

“Nervous,” you laughed in response. “But other than that, I feel pretty great overall. Let’s hope that’s a good sign.”

You stopped in front of the door to exam room three. The nurse opened it and gestured for you and Eddie to step inside. “Dr. Alexander should be with you shortly,” she said. She exited the room after shooting you one more kind smile.

You hopped up onto the exam table and wiggled around, trying to get comfortable. “I hate this paper they put on these things. All it does is stick to your legs, it’s so annoying.” You punctuated your statement with an eye roll.

Eddie dragged over a chair from the corner of the small room and sat down beside you. He reached up and tapped your knee gently, trying to get your attention focused back on him. You looked at him and raised one eyebrow expectantly, knowing he had something on his mind.

“I just need you to know that whatever the doctor says, it’s going to be okay. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together, alright?”

“Okay,” you said with a smile. You placed your hand on top of his where it was resting on your knee. “I love you.”

“Love you, more,” he replied with a wink.

The door to the exam room opened and Dr. Alexander stepped inside. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said in a bright voice. “And Eddie, it’s good to see you again.” She stuck out her hand and Eddie shook it.

“You, too,” Eddie said.

She turned her attention back to you. “Are you ready to go over these results?” She held up your file and you nodded hesitantly.

You had been in the day before in order for the doctor to do some scans and blood work. The hope was that your tumor hadn’t returned after the conclusion of your chemotherapy treatments. This would mean you were in the clear for another six months.

“So,” she stated, pulling a photo of your scan out of the file. “I have some good news for you. I see no tumors on this scan, which means your tumor did not return. There are also no more cancer markers in your blood work. We can officially say that you’ve entered remission.”

You stared down at the photo of your scan in shock. Eddie gently shook your leg, effectively snapping you out of your trance. You looked up at Dr. Alexander, mouth hanging slightly open. “Are you serious?” you whispered, slightly breathless.

She laughed and nodded her head. “Very serious. You won’t be in full remission until you’ve been tumor free for five years, but this is a wonderful start. It’s a big deal.”

“Thank you,” you said. You stood from the exam table and engulfed Dr. Alexander in a hug.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, tone warm. “I’ll see you in six months for, hopefully, another clear scan. Enjoy your freedom, Y/N.”

You turned to Eddie and beamed at him. “You hear that, babe? I’m free.”

—

You walked out of the building and began laughing as soon as the sunshine touched your skin. Throwing your arms out on either side of you, you spun around, laughing hysterically. “I’m in remission!” you shouted. You were so happy that you could not have cared less who heard you.

Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you tight. You turned around to face him and found him smiling down at you warmly.

“You did it,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I am so incredibly proud of you. You fought for your life and came out on the other side. I knew you could do it.”

You leaned up and kissed him hard, trying to convey to him all the emotions you were feeling in that moment. “I’m so happy,” you sighed. “Oh, my gosh! I have to tell Evan!”

“You have to tell Evan what?” asked a familiar voice from behind you. You detangled yourself from Eddie and spun around, coming face to face with your brother. He had a sheepish look on his face and shrugged. “I know you said you’d call but I couldn’t wait.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” You reached out and took both of his hands in yours before continuing. “Brace yourself, because… I’m in remission!”

“Yes!” he shouted, yanking you forward and into a giant hug.

He released you and you stumbled backwards, laughing once again. The joy that was radiating from the three of you was contagious, and anyone passing by on the street would have been infected.

Eddie stepped forward and wrapped one arm around your waist. You smiled up at him and rested your head on his shoulder before directing your attention back to Buck.

“So does this mean we can go hiking again?” he asked, eagerly.

You and Eddie both chuckled and shook your heads at him. “Not quite yet,” Eddie replied. “We’re still taking things one step at a time. She can just walk a little faster now.”

—

It had been a week since finding out you were in remission. You were still in complete bliss. Nothing could spoil your mood.

You pulled into the parking lot at the station and hopped out of your car. Buck and Eddie had insisted you needed to visit today. You pulled out your phone to see no new messages. It was odd that neither had replied after you had texted them both when you left the apartment.

Before you made it into the station, Eddie appeared in front of you. You gave him a quick hug. “You couldn’t wait until I got inside?” you teased.

He pulled a blindfold out of his back pocket. “No, I could not.” He moved behind you and tied the blindfold in place before leading you inside.

“What’s going on?” you asked as he led you carefully up the steps. You stumbled forward slightly on the last step and a different set of hands righted you from the front.

Your blindfold was removed and you came face to face with Buck. He, along with the rest of the 118 and their families, shouted, “Surprise!”

“Are you guys serious?” You spun around to face Eddie who was grinning at you.

“Happy remission party,” he said softly.

“You did not have to do all of this for me.” You pulled him into another hug and felt him squeeze you tight.

“Of course we did.” He pulled back and looked at you. “You’re a warrior and you won your battle. You deserve it.” You shook your head at him in disbelief before turning to face everyone else.

“You are the worst secret keeper. I can’t believe you pulled this off,” you laughed as you pulled Buck into a hug.

He laughed in response and you headed off to thank everyone else in attendance. They all greeted you warmly with hugs and sentiments of congratulations.

When you reached the last person in the group you crouched down and held your arms open. Christopher walked straight into them and enveloped you in the biggest bear hug he could manage.

“I told you Dad and Buck would make you better,” he said.

“You know, you helped, too. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you replied. “Now, are you ready to dance?”

Christopher smiled and nodded his head. The music clicked on and Eddie walked over to join you. Along with the rest of the 118, the three of you spent the rest of the night dancing, laughing, and celebrating your renewed health.

You looked around at everyone that came to celebrate with you. The amount of love was almost overwhelming. Your vision blurred slightly from the unshed tears in your eyes.

Buck noticed you holding back tears. “Hey, what’s that about?”

“They’re happy tears, I promise.” You smiled. “Just feeling really, damn, lucky.”

—

Tags: @beth-winchester21 @lovinnholland @ashtonirwin1234567 @jackiehollanderr @ylirasblog

[topoffyourhat]

Okay I need to break down some stuff after episode 8 cause HOLY FUCKING CRAP so if you don't like spoilers, GTFO.

1. Okay when Monica was blipped back and frankly everyone else blipped back too, everything was moving a million beats a minute. They were gone 5 years and like you wake up and find out your mom died but like...imagine our poor girl Wanda! She had a mother fucking front row seat to when the world fell apart and then all the sudden you come back to a battle where the guy that took the love of your life's life and literally destroyed half the world is wrecking even more havoc and you just have to fucking fight and clean this shit up hoping you can restore everything back but know what you lost can't be. As hard as it is, I feel like the way she's responded to his death compared to Pietro or her parents, I can't put my finger on it cause like while it's obviously been a breaking point for her, this is gonna shape her and her powers more than anything else and I can't wait to see how cause right now she's definitely the villain in her own story or really antivillain in the case cause she's doing what benefits her. After she snapped and trapped Westview in her sitcom reality she could've instantly stopped it but didn't want to cause she finally gets a happy ending. I think the final episode will be her realizing that and maybe working on doing more good like Vision would've wanted her too, maybe she'll go more down the rabbit hole hence your House of M, OR she pulls a Clint and is like I'm done with this shit and just goes into hiding but like who told her that Hayward and SWORD took Vision's body cause damn it that's what I wanna know! You know this girl stormed SWORD begging for a funeral. That scene of Vision dismembered?! I felt her pain in that scene and instantly compared the I can feel you from Infinity War to when she said she I can't feel you now. It was beyond heartbreaking. Wanda and Vision don't deserve it. There's a lot inconsistencies with when she was brought back during the final Thano's battle to Tony's funeral and like I want those gaps filled in.

2. Agatha Harkness's back story. It looked like they were Salem and the way she took her coven and her own mother out like BOSS BITCH. We stan a fucking queen! But they were discussing her betrayal with her coven for delving into dark magic. So she's definitely a damn villain and willing to pull any strings possible to gain and stay powerful including Wanda but based off her protection spells in the basement and the book from the last episode I believe Mephisto or at least Nightmare are still possibilities of being brought to MCU as she can use that magic to bring them here once she has the opportunity or learns how. Maybe she already has connections with them. She's immortal and has to know something about and I feel like she's not saying. I thought the fly was Mephisto based on the comics and was wrong but I still feel like Marvel wants to explore that and they should cause it sets up your Multiverse of Madness movie.

3. I've been so damn sketchy of Hayward this whole damn time. Just doesn't seem right at all and is constantly contradicting himself. Like why the unhealthy obsession with Wanda and killing her? It is just based on her taking control of Westview or her incident in Civil War? At 1st I thought it was Ultron possessing him but based off the end credit scene with White Vision I feel like they've either already uploaded Ultron into him or are getting ready to but just need Wanda. OR when Wanda lost control of her powers at the house site and restored Vision I think the Vision she brought back was using part of her soul. It's the humanization part of himself she brought back cause she helped humanize him and obviously how they fell for each other based on that Civil War flashback but maybe the White Vision is the AI part of him void of emotion or memories of her and that's who her and her Vision are fighting against in the last episode cause Hayward can give him commands and Vision will execute. Monica also can't stand him now that she's learning the truth so some flashbacks with Hayward and Maria would fill some gaps too you know? We know he was appointed in Maria's place after she died but clearly there wasn't a lot of approval in that decision.

4. Also there's supposedly supposed to be this big cameo next week. We've all got our theories but Bettany said it's someone he's idolized and always wanted to work with. Like WHO THE FUCK IS IT?! I really hope Dr. Strange cameos to set up Multiverse of Madness with Wanda but also like they brought up Monica knowing an aerospace engineer up for the task like could it be Reed Richard's from Fantastic Four since they're redoing that AGAIN. Could it be an X-Men crossover since they brought back Evan Peter's and mutants can now be explored further in the MCU with X-Men? Maybe it's Ultron cause I still think he's coming back someway somehow based on everything or could it just be a new big bad like I've also been thinking like Mephisto or Nightmare to set up Multiverse of Madness cause really we know why this is we have Wandavision in the 1st place. To set up Phase 4 and you know this is the movie to set it up and your Young Avengers initiative with Tommy and Billy.

5. Finally...I want full on Monica Rambeau using her powers, taking names, and kicking ass! I can't wait to see her as a defined, self actualized superhero and it seems like she's got some beef with Carol. I know that will eventually be explored and hopefully it's with the badass holy trinity of her, Darcy Lewis, and Jimmy Woo in the Woo Files! Also since Darcy fell into the hex, she should have powers too. I hope she ends up being Verity Willis. She can detect lies including Loki's and Kat Dennings has always wanted to work with Tom so...🤔🤔🤔

All right, that is all for now and I'm going to bed. I'll be theorizing all week like the rest of you and know my mind will be blown next Friday.

[jungle321jungle]

How I Long For Things To Be Restored

When Logan begins going to the old house on the end of Wendon Way, he doesn’t expect to meet the little boy who also frequents there. Nor does he expect to learn the forgotten secrets of the home. 

Taglist: @hells-missing-a-goat @angels-and-dreams @ollyollyoxinfree @gattonero17 @chumo-cookie @dreaming-always @anxiety-ismy-name @mrbubbajones @janustheliar @hogwarts-my-love

Ao3 - Masterlist

~~~~

How I Long For Things To Be Restored

The old house on the end of Wendon Way had stood for what felt like eons. Not one in the sleepy town could recall when it had been lived in last- or someone had ever lived there at all. But regardless of the details, it had become an urban legend among all ages. For children it was a place to avoid due to rumors, teenagers were responsible for spreading the rumors to keep kids away from their spot, and some adults didn’t agree with the idea of trespassing and understandably worried about what could be going on, and finally were the adults who had been those teenagers and fueled such worries among their peers. 

There were unofficial customs and rules to the house on the end of Wendon Way, so when Logan had seen the young boy sitting on the back stairs to the home, he had been more than surprised. Kids shied away from the large looming home, they didn’t sit on the deck stairs attempting to pet birds. 

“You shouldn’t try to touch them,” Logan commented as he approached. “They could have a disease even if they don’t bite or something.”

The boy’s eyes didn’t meet his, in fact he didn't seem like he was listening at all. It wasn’t until he had moved closer causing the birds to fly away that the boy’s dark eyes met his. “Hello, would you mind moving slightly so I can walk by?”

The boy gave him a confused expression as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his patchwork jacket, but after a pause he stood up and moved out the way. 

“It’s going to rain soon,” Logan informed the boy as he walked past him outside into the backyard. “You should head home.”

“Then why are you here?” The boy replied. 

“I need to do something.”

“Like what?”

Logan didn’t reply as he made his way down the stairs ensuring he skipped the one he knew was deemed sketchy by the neighborhood. He walked into the backyard silently wondering not for the first time who maintained the grass back here, before he turned to look at the home. 

“What are you doing?” The boy asked him. Logan hadn’t heard him approach but he had come closer, but he still kept to a relatively safe distance. 

“I need to take some pictures,” Logan answered, turning and walking further away. 

“Why?”

“For a project.”

Logan walked a bit further and then he turned and nodded satisfied with his choice. When he did, he pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures. Satisfied he began to move to other spots in the backyard and take pictures in each spot. 

“That’s a lot of pictures,” the boy commented. 

Logan gave a slight nod, “I want to ensure I have enough. 

“But what are you gonna do with pictures?” 

“You ask a lot of questions don’t you?”

The boy’s head lowered as he looked at his feet and shuffled them, but he didn’t reply. 

“It’s not a bad quality,” Logan assured him as he felt a raindrop hit his skin. “But you also should not talk to strangers as much as you are.”

The boy looked up and gave Logan a look of thought before he spoke, “What's your name then?”

Logan raised an eyebrow amused, “My name is Logan. And yours?”

The little boy gave him a smile, “I’m not going to talk to strangers.”

~~~~

When Logan returned about a week later, the boy was also back. 

He had been sitting on the deck stairs once more, kicking his legs lazily as he stared up at the sky. Upon seeing him Logan had two thoughts. Firstly, he wondered why the kid had returned, and secondly he wondered why the boy’s clothes hadn’t changed. Previously Logan had tried not to focus on the boy’s clothing given he didn’t want to judge, but seeing him here twice in the same outfit was a bit strange. 

The clothes were too big for him, most likely hand me downs. And they appeared worn, his pants had a few holes in them in places other than the knee, as did his shirt, it seemed all patches had been placed on his jacket rather than other clothes. 

“Hi Logan,” the kid said, moving from his spot to let Logan by. “Are you taking more pictures?”

Logan shook his head as he descended the stairs. “Not quite. What are you doing here again?”

The question went unanswered, but Logan wouldn’t force him. Instead he found a seat in the grass and pulled out his sketchbook from his bag. He turned to the page he had started on at home to give it a frown, it was... decent. But then against he hadn’t been looking at the home itself so hopefully he could get a better sense of it now. 

“You never told me what you’re doing,” The boy stated. 

Logan gave a slight sigh as he reached in his bag for his pencils. “I'm updating the house. What it would look like if it wasn't the way it is now.”

“Why?”

“Last semester in school I had to do the same for a building on campus, but the whole time I was thinking about what this place would look like restored. And I have time this summer so I thought I would try. Last time I was here I took pictures of the front and the back. I’m going to work on those. And then next will come the sides, and then I’ll move indoors.”

“Are you going to do each room?”

“I suppose. So now you know why I’m coming here. Why are you?”

The boy gave him a shrug, “Why not?”

Logan silently wondered why he even bothered asking. 

~~~~

“You’ve been coming more often,” the boy noted. “You used to just come once a week but these past few times it’s been more.”

Logan didn’t respond until he had finished setting himself up in the old kitchen. “I’ve been more eager to work on this. And I don’t have a job anymore, so I have more time.”

“Were you fired?”

“No. What are you going to do this afternoon? Are you going to watch me or do something else?”

“I can do both,” the child replied, drawing a slight smile from Logan. 

“I suppose you can.” With nothing more to be said Logan began to play soft music on his phone and began to get to work on redesigning the kitchen. The boy didn’t bother him as usual, and as always he sat far enough away but he’d watch intently. Logan didn’t realize how intently he had been watching until at least an hour had passed and the boy spoke again. 

“What happened to your arm?”

Logan paused in his sketching and looked up to the dark eyes of the boy in confusion. 

“There’s a big bruise.”

As understanding set in, Logan pulled rolled his sleeves down, he must have pushed them up due to the heat without realizing it, but the kid was awaiting an answer he didn’t want to give. “Does it matter?”

“It looks like it hurts.”

“It does.”

“What happened?” 

Logan gave a light sigh, “That’s not a polite question to ask.”

“Was it a fight? Hmm no, you don’t look like you’d win fights.”

“Also not a polite thing to say.”

The boy gave a slight pout but he didn’t question further. 

~~~~

“Can I see the finished drawings? You never showed me.”

Logan looked up in surprise. He hadn’t seen the boy when entering the house, and he had just assumed that for once the boy was home. But it seemed he just hadn’t arrived yet. “In  a moment,” Logan told him. “I’m putting the finishing touches on the kitchen, you can see it after.”

“Which room will you do next?”

“I want to do the living room, but that one may take some work given its size, so maybe the dining room next. That one should be simple.”

“Are you gonna do the bathrooms too?”

“I think so. It would be wrong to redo everything else but them... Alright. Kitchen is done, would you like to see?”

The boy nodded eagerly, but his steps were so slow and cautious as he approached Logan. Logan laid out his sketchbook going to his first drawing and waited until the boy was close enough. He still stayed out of arm's reach, but he was close enough to see as Logan went through the pages. Each one had pictures of the original house taped to it, and then came Logan’s designs done in different colored pencils and pens with a million notes in his neat scrawl beside the many details. 

“How do you know how to do that?”

“I’m studying architecture,” Logan explained. “And last semester I took a class which focused both on restoration and redesign.”

“The walls are plain. And there’s no kitchen things,” the boy commented. 

“There is not,” Logan agreed. “Stoves, paint, cabinets, and all of that can be bought and changed, this can't be.”

“Yes it can. You’re doing it right now.”

Logan couldn’t exactly argue with that. “You think I need to put it in then?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m afraid interior design isn’t where my skills lie... oh I have an idea. Why don’t you pick them out?”

“Me?”

“You’re always here while I draw and you take an interest. Next time I’ll bring some magazines and scissors and you can cut out the ones you like. How about that?”

The boy’s dark eyes scanned Logan’s face as if attempting to look for any hints of deceit, but finally he nodded. “Okay.”

~~~~

“Logan look at this one!”

Logan looked up from his drawing to see that the boy was holding up a magazine and pointing to its dining room set. 

“It would be perfect!” He decided. 

Logan gave a slight chuckle, “I haven’t even finished the dining room yet.”

“Well make the walls match this.”

“I’ll consider it. I thought you were picking out the kitchen though?”

“But I saw and I liked this one. I’m almost done with the kitchen. Promise!”

Logan resisted the urge to smile as he continued in his task. He hadn’t expected the boy to get so excited over clipping things out of magazines, but it was oddly nice to see him so happy. 

“Done!” 

Logan set his sketchbook aside and he moved to see the boy had spread out some clippings. “So I see. You want to do the next part now?”

“What’s the next part?”

Logan didn’t reply at first, rather he reached into his backpack and drew out the plastic sheets he had brought. They were nothing special, simply what his designs would slide into, but even so the boy watched him eagerly. Logan slid in his kitchen design to it and pulled out some clear tape. “Now you can tape them wherever you want on to it. Just be sure to do it on the plastic.”

“So the drawing isn’t messed up?”

“Exactly. And then when you’re done with that...” Logan pulled a thin pointed sharpie from his bag. “Then you sign your name so everyone knows it’s yours.”

“Got it!”

With the boy set up again Logan continued his work on the dining room but it wasn’t too long before a “Tada!” rang out. The boy was holding it proudly and the moment he had Logan’s attention he began to point out different things and why he had picked them, it was adorable in its own way, but what stuck out of the Logan most was when the boy pointed out his handwriting on the bottom. 

“And I finished it like you said. By signing my name, I even did it in cursive!”

“You’re trying to upstage me I see,” Logan learned a bit closer to decipher the messy letters. “Virgil. That’s a nice name.”

The boy nodded in agreement, “It’s nice to officially meet you Logan! Now can I put plants in the backyard?”

“Of course.”

~~~~

“Is it time to start upstairs?”

“I think so,” Logan nodded, picking up his things. “Any suggestions on which room to start with?”

“The office.”

“Then that’s where I’ll start. And you’ll pick out the living room for me in the meantime?”

“Uhuh.”

With that decided, Logan took to the stairs listening to the sound of them creak with each step. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t unnerving. Like most others he had no reason to go upstairs in the old house, for one most people kept the main level and the party trashed area it had become. But according to the myths of his town, there were many stories on why one shouldn’t go up the stairs of the old house on the end of Wendon Way. Some claimed it’s where monsters lived, and others were convinced all who went up there were cursed. Logan personally didn’t believe in such fantasy, but he found himself more on edge than usual. As he reached the top stair and looked down the empty hall he took a deep breath, to calm and remind himself the differences between fact and fiction. 

“It’s the first door on the left,” Virgil chirped from behind him. 

Logan nodded and followed the instructions and opened the door to what had once been an office. Unlike downstairs, the old furniture remained. The room was small with tall bookshelves covering two of the walls. Directly in front of him sat an old dust covered desk and a chair, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to go over to sit at it. Rather he snapped a few pictures to use when he went home and sat in the middle of the floor to draw.  

“You’re not gonna sit in the chair?” 

Logan shook his head, “This spot is fine.”

Virgil didn’t reply, and rather he sat in the doorway and spread out the magazines he had been carrying and began to work. It was strange in a way, Virgil’s ability to stay on task for so long. Logan had always thought kids had short attention spans and yet he and Virgil could sit and work for hours. And even when Virgil had finished picking out what he liked he would find other ways to quietly occupy himself in the meantime. 

“What are you gonna do when you finish?” Virgil asked suddenly.

“I’ll do another room.”

“No like, when you finish the house.”

“I’m not sure. But I’ve got some time before then, I just wonder if I can finish before I go back to school.”

“Do you go to school far away?”

“It’s a few hours away.”

“That’s far away.”

“Then I suppose so.”

Virgil didn’t reply but rather he began to pull at the strings from one of the holes in those same pants he always wore. Logan didn’t push, the boy would speak when he was ready. 

~~~~

“Hi Logan.”

The sudden voice caused Logan to jolt in surprise. His pulse shot up as he looked up from what he had been doing to see Virgil standing in the office doorway. He took a deep breath, “You startled me.”

Virgil gave a shrug as he moved to the stack of magazines Logan had left to the side, “Did you bring new ones?”

Logan took another deep breath, “I did. You need to make more sound when you walk.”

Virgil ignored him, but something about his own words stuck with Logan. Since first meeting Virgil he had known that the boy walked quietly. And it certainly wasn’t the first time Virgil had accidentally snuck up on him, but with the loud creaks the stairs gave even under the slightest amount of weight, he would assume that Virgil would have made a sound coming up the stairs. Had he been that engrossed in his designs that he hadn’t even heard? Or maybe Virgil had been in a different room on this level already. It wasn’t as if Logan had any idea what Virgil did in the house when he wasn’t there after all. What did he do? And why did he come at all?

They were questions Logan had been wondering since first laying eyes on the boy, and yet it seemed as more time passed he was getting more curious rather than less. 

“Logan? Which do you think is a better couch?”

Logan refocused on the present and Virgil pointing out two brown couches in a magazine. “They look the same.”

Virgil responded with a frown, “No they’re not, you’re not helpful.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll do the sofa last,” Virgil decided, flipping to another page. 

“You could be quite the interior designer when you grow up.”

Virgil shook his head, “That’s not what I wanna do.”

“Oh? Then what do you want to do?”

Virgil didn't reply at first and when he did it was quiet enough that Logan nearly missed it. “Leave.”

“What do you mean by-”

“Logan?” A voice called from another room. Logan’s eyebrows knit in confusion as he stood. “Logan?” The voice called again. 

With that Logan exited the office and headed to the stairs to find his younger brother’s face looking up at him. Patton gave him a relieved smile. “There you are kiddo! This place gives me the creeps.”

“What are you doing here?” Logan replied descending the creaking stairs. 

“Dad wants you so mom called, but you didn’t answer and since I knew you were here I came.”

“My phone was off,” Logan lied. 

“What if something was wrong and we needed to call you?” Patton chided. “And if you got in trouble it would take too long for it to turn on to call for help.”

“Is he that mad?”

“I don’t think so.”

So he was. Logan gave a slight sigh, “Let me grab my stuff.”

He hurried up the stairs silently wondering how to apologize to Virgil, but when he returned to the office the boy was already gone. 

~~~~

“Who was that last time?” Virgil asked as Logan entered the house.

“My brother,” Logan answered. “I finished the office at home. Why don’t we move to the master bedroom?”

“Is he older or younger?” Virgil asked later when they had been sitting in silence. 

“He’s two years younger than me.”

“He sounded like he was treating you like the younger brother.”

“He does that.”

“Are you two close?”

No. “It’s complicated...”

“I have an older brother,” Virgil offered after a pause. “I haven’t seen him in a long time though.”

“Oh, is he old enough to move away?”

“Kinda.”

“Why don’t you like your brother?”

Logan stopped in his sketch and set his pencil to the side. “I didn’t say I don’t like him. I said it’s complicated.”

“Do you like him then?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you get along?”

“We get along,” Logan amended. “Patton gets along with everyone. I said we weren’t close... What about your brother? Do you two get along when you see him?”

“No.”

~~~~

“The final room of the house,” Logan stated, pushing open the door. He glanced down to the boy beside him and Virgil gave a slight nod with an almost solemn expression. 

It was a bedroom.

There were two beds in it. On the left by the door was a twin sized bed, but on the right was a smaller bed meant for a child. Between the two was a large dresser on which sat a broken mirror. Like the others on this floor the furniture was covered underneath a layer of dust, but one thing which was different about this room was the presence of flowers. 

They were dead and shriveled, some even decomposing, but that would mean someone had been in here not too long ago to put them in here. But why and when? Hadn’t this house been abandoned for ages? It didn’t make sense, but even so the flowers laid on the child’s bed beside a teddy bear. Their presence didn’t seem to bother Virgil any, as the boy walked past him into the room to go sit on the bed and pick up the old toy. 

Logan took a deep breath trying not to focus on answers he didn’t have. He only had a week left at home, and one room to go. That should be his focus. 

He had just gotten himself situated on the floor when his phone rang bearing Patton’s name. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Lo!” Came Patton’s cheery tone. “Are you not coming home? We’re about to go see Grandma.”

“I told you this morning I’m not coming.”

“But she’s our Grandma,” Patton complained. “I know she wants to see you!”

“No she wants-” Logan forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’ll see you when you guys get back tomorrow.”

“Okay love you L!”

“You too.” When he hung up Logan found Virgil’s quizzical gaze on him. “My brother,” he explained. “He was asking if I was going with them to see our grandmother.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked, setting the bear back in its place. 

“I’m not. I don’t really like going over there.”

“Why not?”

Logan grabbed his pencil and set to work instead of entertaining this conversation, but Virgil was still watching him. “Because,” he said finally. 

“Because why?”

Logan bit his tongue to keep from replying something he’d later regret. Virgil was a curious kid. He had known that for months now. “Just because.”

“You don’t like them do you?”

“They don’t like me!” Logan shouted in return. “Okay? My family doesn’t like me. So why should I go spend time with them?”

Virgil’s response came without any hesitation, “Because you have them.”

Logan’s sudden anger and frustration vanished at the words and he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the paper in his lap rather than into those dark eyes. “When we were kids we were at my grandparents’. And they have a pool... Patton wasn’t a good swimmer, I was. So I was supposed to watch him. But... but I didn’t. And Patton almost drowned. He died in that ambulance too, the EMTs actually brought him back...” he trailed off and shut his eyes trying to stop from falling deeper into his memories. “I nearly got my brother killed.”

“And you still blame yourself?” Virgil guessed. “Your family still does too?”

Logan opened his eyes to stare at the kid in confusion, wondering how someone Virgil’s age could even comprehend what he was saying, but it was all he could do to wipe away the few tears threatening to fall. “Patton is the only one who doesn’t blame me.”

“At least it was an accident,” Virgil said quietly. 

“What do you-”

”You always ask why I come here. It’s not that I come here, it's that I never left.” Virgil said slowly, getting up and coming closer. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of Logan that he spoke again. “Not since the day I died.”

Anything Logan could have said was cut off as Virgil poked his forehead- no Virgil had tried but Logan felt nothing but cool air. 

“That’s- That’s- That’s not...”

Virgil gave him a slight smile as he took another step forward only to walk through Logan. 

“I died a long time ago,” Virgil told him, walking around him and going to sit on that small bed. “I’m not good enough at time to say how long.”

Logan couldn’t get words to leave his mouth. He wanted to say something- anything but any half formed thoughts died on his tongue. 

“Take a deep breath.”

Logan did as he was told and even so it took him three tries just to choke out the word “how.”

“My brother,” Virgil answered, picking up a few dried petals and letting them fall from his fingers. “He pushed me down the stairs. He told everyone I fell.”

“Why?”

Virgil gave a slight shrug, “Without me Mommy wouldn't have to stay with Daddy. So when I died they left. But she used to come back to leave me flowers. And since she died he does it now. He comes on my birthday and... and on the day he killed me.”

“Virgil, I-”

“You should get close with your brother at least,” Virgil interrupted. “I don’t know about the rest of your family. But your brother seems nice.” 

“He is,” Logan replied quietly. 

The boy- the ghos- Virgil gave a satisfied nod. “You know, you’re the only one who’s ever seen me. I don’t know why, do you?”

Logan shook his head quickly, “N-no.”

Virgil gave a shrug as if it didn’t matter as he moved back over to Logan and picked up a magazine. “I’m gonna pick out the bathroom.”

Logan didn’t know how to reply, so he didn’t. He grabbed his sketchbook and instead began to draw. 

~~~~~

“Virgil?” Logan called cautiously upon entering the room. But Virgil didn’t reply or come out from wherever it was he went. He didn’t come out at all when Logan was drawing, or when he left. Nor did he come out the day after that. Or the day after that. 

Logan entered the room and looked around hopeful, but just as before he was completely alone. He gave a soft sigh as he set the flowers he had brought on the bed. “I head back to school tomorrow,” he told the nothingness. “I...I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t even know if you can hear me but, I’m making an effort with Patton already. My parents don’t seem happy about it but I am... so um. I guess I’ll go. I’ll come back though. I need to finish designing this room after all. So... I’ll talk to you then.”

The old house on the end of Wendon Way had stood for what felt like eons. Not one in the sleepy town could recall when it had been lived in last- or someone had ever lived there at all. But regardless of the details, it had become an urban legend among all ages. For children it was a place to avoid due to rumors, teenagers were responsible for spreading the rumors to keep kids away from their spot, and some adults didn’t agree with the idea of trespassing and understandably worried about what could be going on, and finally were the adults who had been those teenagers and fueled such worries among their peers. And for others it was a place to be far from the other worries of life. And yet there were unofficial rules to the house on the end of Wendon Way, one of which was not to go to the second floor due to the ghost which lived there.

But as he had learned, it wasn’t exactly a rumor. 

“This is you isn't it?” He demanded entering the second bedroom. 

The only occupant of the room looked up with a neutral expression. But not getting a response he gave a huff and began to read off the old news article he had found from his phone. “‘Local college student killed in violent car crash after supposedly leaving the Wendon House’. That’s you right?”

Logan’s attention fell back to the ever present sketchbook in his lap, “You're always so loud, Roman. I like peace when I draw.”

“But I’m right aren't I? You died like fifteen years ago outside this place? Am I right?”

“You are.”

“I knew it!” Roman cheered. “So, what are you drawing today?” When Logan didn’t reply Roman moved closer before he frowned seeing the face drawn in the book. “You always draw that same kid. Why?”

“Because I don’t want to forget his face.”

Romag gave an interested hum as he moved to sit across from Logan, “What’s his name?”

“His name was Virgil. And he was here before me.”

“And then what happened?”

“I got close to him.”

“And then?”

Logan stopped drawing for a moment and he looked up, those deep and sunken in eyes meeting Roman’s, “I took his place.”

[rookie-ramsey]

Baby Blues, Chapter 1 (Bryce Lahela X MC)

Description: MC and Bryce can handle just about anything. Hopefully, pregnancy and parenting fall into the “just about everything” category.

Pairing: Bryce X F!MC

Each pregnancy test scattered on her bathroom floor stared back at her with the same results:

Pregnant.

Well, now everything made sense. Sure, she had immediately suspected pregnancy when she started puking at irksome morning hours. When her period didn’t arrive, it only strengthened her suspicions.

If Emily were honest with herself, she shouldn’t have been surprised as she was. Hell, she was a doctor. She knew the pill wasn’t 100 percent effective, and they hadn’t been consistent with condom usage since making their relationship serious.

Running a hand through her hair, Emily disposed of the pregnancy tests. Still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was pregnant (and apparently forgetting everything she knew about conception), she dazedly showered and got dressed for work. 

Her stomach churned as she left the apartment earlier than her roommates. Whether it was from morning sickness or worry, she didn’t know. She boarded the train and held a hand on her stomach, willing herself not to projectile vomit all over the seat in front of her. 

Once the train stopped at the station close to Edenbrook, Emily felt more relaxed as the nausea subsided. She walked into the locker room and put on her white coat. This early, only the early morning shift nurses were in the hallway.

By the time she was making a round through the hospital to check on her patients, her coworkers were starting to file into the building. It was normal enough for her to report early, so nobody questioned her being there. 

When her pager buzzed, she reported to the diagnostics lab. Ethan, Baz, and June gathered around a CT. 

“We have a case?”

“Yes, Dr. Harmon.” Ethan nodded toward the scans. “Patient presents with involuntary muscle spasms, mood swings, and blurred vision. These are the scans Kenmore sent over.”

“Huntington’s disease?”

Baz shook his head. “Already tested negative.” 

“Hmm.” Emily leaned closer. “No signs of a tumor or traumatic brain injury. Brain looks normal. Should we redo the scans?”

Ethan nodded. “Start with that. The three of you can run a full work up. I’ll do a more thorough patient history while we wait on the results and start the scans.”

“Alright.” Emily started to make her way out of the office. As she did, a sudden churn of her stomach made her stop. Without a word, she darted down the hall and into the women’s bathroom.

She rushed into a stall and barely had time to slam the door shut behind her when she started vomiting. 

There went the muffin and orange juice she had scarfed down for breakfast. Groaning, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and gargled some water. She grimaced and bought a pack of gum at the nearest vending machine to rid her mouth of the foul taste. 

Emily started to make her way down the hall, feeling awkward after making her mad dash out of the diagnostics office. As she rounded the corner, she nearly ran into Bryce. 

Bryce grinned. “Hey there.”

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?” Concern filled Bryce’s warm eyes. “Baz said you ran out of the office.”

“Oh, well…” Suddenly nervous, Emily glanced at the ground. 

This felt entirely too awkward. She thought she’d at least have time to put together a speech to announce her pregnancy, but now she wasn’t sure if she could keep her mouth shut.

“Bryce…” Emily inhaled sharply. “I have to get back to work, but meet me for lunch.”

Bryce arched a brow. “Sounds mysterious. I’m in.” He gave her a quick hug before releasing her. “Go do your diagnosis thing.”

“See you at lunch.” Emily squeezed his arm before she left to help Baz and June with the patient. If they suspected anything, they didn’t question her, which she was grateful for. She wasn’t about to announce her pregnancy to anyone other than Bryce when she’d only known about it for four hours and twelve minutes. 

She spent her morning running tests on their patient. At noon, her lunch break began. She waited in the locker room for Bryce. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Bryce slipped his hand into hers and pulled her in for a quick peck on the lips. “I’m really curious to see what this mystery lunch conversation is going to be about.”

“Okay… do you want to know now or after we go eat? I don’t want you to get startled and choke.”

Bryce laughed. “You’re talking to someone who just dug an eraser out of someone’s intestinal tract. It’s gonna take a lot to startle me.”

“Famous last words.” Emily grabbed Bryce’s hand and sat down with him.  “Bryce… I’m pregnant.”

In the length of the silence that followed, Emily could swear she felt her pregnancy progress a few weeks. When Bryce finally responded, she realized with some shock that the silence had lasted only a few seconds. 

“That… was way more startling than I thought it would be. You… when did you find out?”

“About four thirty this morning. I took five different tests.”

“Okay…” Bryce ran a hand through his hair. “Wow …”

“Please try to talk coherently.” Worried, Emily grabbed his arm. “I’m freaking out a little right now.”

“Sorry.” Bryce settled a hand on her leg. “I don’t want you to worry. It may be sudden, but… it’s not like we never talked about it. We’ve got this.”

At that, her eyes watered. She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. Bryce slipped an arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m going to go to an OB/GYN outside of Edenbrook, at least for now. I want to keep it under the radar for a few weeks.”

Bryce nodded and kissed her head. “My lips are sealed. It’s our little secret as long  as you want it to be.”

She kissed his cheek and gave his torso a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Let’s go grab some lunch.”

next chapter

Tags: @elephant9998 @mvalentine @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @whatchique @achalantspitfire @lahellacute @virtuallytakenby @oofchoices @dang-lahela @miss-whit12 @drakeismyweakness @sitsoncornflake @a-tragical-tale @vamped99 @bitchloveskcbaseball @laceandlula @paulfwesley @bloomingsivan

I tagged my regular Bryce tags and added anyone who requested Bryce on my recent post asking for fanfiction input. Let me know if you want added or removed!

[war-sword]

needy

(Draco x  female Hufflepuff reader)

summary: (inspired by the song 'needy' by Ariana Grande) Draco Malfoy has been made a Death Eater and given the task to murder Albus Dumbledore, something that would make any normal person have constant breakdowns. Draco is no different. In the solace of Moaning Myrtle's company, he gets attached to someone else in the process. words: 13.9k warnings: cursing, implied sex, blood (sectumsempra curse). a/n: Hi! I've had the plot for this imagine in my head since January, started writing it in February, and now in May it's finally finished :) I Hope you all enjoy. If you've never heard this song, I really recommend it! lot's of Ariana's recent music makes me think about Draco. I tried to incorporate as many lyrics as possible, and also some from her song 'ghostin'' (an alternative title I considered) p.s. to my knowledge, brushing bugs are not something in the Harry Potter universe, I just came up with them on my own. I figured pureblood witches and wizards would have found alternative, magical means to cleaning their teeth, maybe considering toothbrushes for muggles, muggleborns and halfbloods. (there will be no second part to this imagine. it’s already super long) taglist: @clockworkherondale @mayorofzillyhoo @hockeyandmarvel @mdgrdians. this fic is deadicated to @socontagiousimagines who i know has been going through a tough time, loves ari & draco, and writes amazing stories ♡

Part of him couldn’t believe he was back in this bloody bathroom again, confiding in what was possibly Hogwarts’ most annoying ghost. And yet.

Myrtle was actually… not so annoying. Maybe she thought he was cute, but then again, from most of the stories it seemed she found all boys cute. Regardless, she was one person Draco could safely vent to, seeing as A) this problem would be trivial to her in twenty years and B) the Dark Lord couldn’t exactly kill a ghost, no matter how powerful he was. Myrtle had all the time in the world, and was very willing to listen to Draco come and complain or cry. She also gave surprisingly comforting advice, even if she couldn’t give him any physical comfort.

“...not your fault, he’s always sticking his nose into others’ businesses.” Myrtle’s high pitched voice echoed around the tiled room, pulling Draco’s thoughts back to the topic at hand.

“Myrtle?” Draco heard a female voice call. Myrtle immediately shut her mouth, and Draco tensed up. The girl came walking into the bathroom and turning the corner to where the rows of toilets were. “Sorry I’m...” Her voiced faded as she finally looked down the aisle.

Draco hoped it was someone he didn’t know, but instead found himself slightly surprised. It was Y/N L/N, the only Pureblood of their year to be sorted into Hufflepuff. Draco had always been vaguely aware of her presence– she was Hufflepuff Prefect, and her father worked at the Ministry like his own father. Draco had never had any reason to talk to her though, since they were sorted into opposing houses and young Draco had seen no reason to keep up with her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Y/N started, clutching the book she was holding to her chest. “Normally no one’s up here.” Draco averted his gaze quickly, looking down. He rubbed his sore and puffy eyes. His pale complexion did not make his panic attacks any easier to hide. Maybe if he continued to look like this all the time, people would stop noticing.  Myrtle pushed her fingers together awkwardly as she looked between the two living students. Y/N gulped. “Um… are you alright?” She asked.

Draco let out a short laugh that echoed around the tiled room. “What’s it look like?” he sniffed, rolling his eyes. He still didn’t make eye contact with her.

Myrtle looked nervously back and forth between her friends as Y/N stepped closer. Y/N perched on the edge of the bench the other side of Draco, who was too tired to tell her to piss off. “Would you like a hug? You look like you could use one.”

Draco finally looked over at her with his reddened eyes. “What?”

“I know Myrtle is a good listener,” Y/N said gently, “but sometimes a hug is nice. They’re scientifically proven to help, you know. I give very good ones.”

Draco looked away again, absentmindedly rubbing his arm. This was a very strange encounter and he was quickly getting self conscious. “I think I should just go,” he said quietly, his voice catching. He jumps up, grabbing his cloak from beside him, pulling it on as he walks quickly down bathroom hall.

“Malfoy?” Y/N calls just as he’s about to turn the corner. He stops short and looks back. “I won’t tell anyone. Don’t worry.”

Draco feels a little surprised. “Thanks,” he sighs in relief, then disappears.

 ༄

 Draco felt like he started to see more of Y/N after that. Slipping through the halls, walking through the dungeons late at night. Despite her Prefect status, she never inquired to where he was going at odd hours, or even attemptted to get him in trouble. The first few times was just awkward eye contact, but then she decided to offer him small smiles. Draco would just nod in acknowledgement, and turn away. He wondered if she was following him, or if he was just more aware of her. It was hard to say.

“What’s your deal with L/N anyway?” Draco asked Myrtle one day, trying to be casual. For once he hadn’t come to the bathroom on the first floor because he was hyperventilating, he was just bored.

Myrtle shrugged, flying in slow circles around the sinks in the middle of the bathroom. “She just likes to hang out with me.”

“What’s her tragic backstory, then?” Draco deadpanned.

“I’m not sharing yours, so obviously I can’t share hers.” Myrtle said. Draco looked over at her, and caught Myrtle’s sly smile.

“She really just comes to hang out then, huh?”

“You would be a lot more fun if you were easier to fool, Draco.” Myrtle pouted.

I might be dead if I was a fool, Draco thought to himself.

“She just knows I’m lonely, is all. Unlike most people, she likes to take time out of her week to come visit. We read books together, since I can’t enjoy them now that I’m dead.”

Draco just hummed in response. So she hadn’t been sneaking around him that day, she had just come to see Myrtle. That made him feel a little more relaxed. Hopefully Y/N would just fade back into the background and he could stay focused on his task.

 ༄

 Draco was fuming. He’d had a tough week with classes– Snape exempted him from all assignments, but that was only a small reprieve from his other coursework. Wasn’t it enough he was only attending school this year for a murder operative, but he still had to do all the regular homework too to keep up the act? He’d been slammed all week and was unable to get to the Room of Requirement once. Tonight he was planning to catch up for lost time, but of course Filtch had to catch him on his way. His lie about Slughorn’s lame Christmas party had only gotten him so far. He would’ve been able to handle the situation just fine, he was the great Malfoy liar after all, but of course Snape had swooped in. That was enough in itself to piss Draco off, but Potter was right there– and Draco had seen the look on his face.

He continued down to the dungeons, leaving Snape in the corridor. He didn’t want his help. He could do this… couldn’t he? As he descended down the many staircases, he became more and more fretful. Maybe Snape was right.

Draco found a quiet corner in the hall and leaned against the wall. Familiar despair crawled up his spine and into his mind, and tears started to prick his eyes. If he kept crying this easily, he was just going proving Snape’s point more. Draco unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt in an effort to make it easier to breathe. He closed his eyes and tried to do the controlled breathing exercise that Myrtle had suggested he do when he felt a panic attack coming on. In, and out, very slowly as he counted to five. In….. out….. In….. out. Draco was so focused on his breathing that he didn’t notice the footsteps.

“Malfoy?”

Draco jumped. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Y/N standing around the corner of the corridor. Since it was past curfew, he expected her to be in uniform with her Prefect’s badge prominently displayed. Instead, she was dressed in casual clothes- black shorts and a big grey Hufflepuff sweatshirt, her hair up in a bun with pieces falling out all over the place. She had her feet pushed into her uniform shoes halfway, like she’d just slipped them on to walk a short ways. In her hands she was holding a small bundle. Her eyes were wide in surprise he felt mirrored on his own face.

“Are you… um….” Y/N faltered. “Would you, er, like a cookie?” She held out the bundle in front of her.

Draco paused a moment. “Why not?”

Y/N shuffled over and sat down next to him, leaving a healthy bit of space. She unwrapped the bundle of cloth to reveal five chocolate chip cookies, looking soft and warm. Draco broke off half of the one on the top. “I’m in the middle of a long herbology essay,” Y/N explained. “I have a bad habit of snacking when I take homework breaks, and I probably shouldn’t eat all five of these.”

“Well, in that case...” Draco took the other half of the cookie. Y/N smiled.

“They’re good, I promise. There always seems to be plenty of them in the kitchen, even at this hour.” Y/N re-wrapped the remaining four cookies and then took her hair out to redo her twist. Draco watched as she smoothed her hair back into a sleek new bun with no flyaways. She looked cuter with the little pieces out, he couldn’t help but think.

“Maybe I should start coming down here, too. Eat my feelings instead of talking to a dead person.” Oops. Draco closed his eyes and inwardly cringed at his own slip-up.

But Y/N didn’t seem to react at all. “Like I said, Myrtle is a good listener. I don’t blame you. She’s a pretty good secret keeper, too.” Y/N played with the edge of her sock, looking down. “Myrtle wouldn’t give me any hints. But uh… if you ever want to talk to someone who’s not dead, I’m usually not too busy.”

“Thanks, but it’s nothing really.” Draco brushed her offer away. “Just a bad day is all.”

Y/N nodded. “Are you okay right now?”

Wow, was he really getting this bad at being unreadable? “Yeah, just got kicked out of Slughorn’s stupid Christmas party.”

“Ah,” she said. “I should’ve guessed, that explains the suit. I didn’t know you were invited.”

“I wasn’t.” The edge of Draco’s mouth quirked up.

Y/N grinned. “Well, the next time you go sneaking around make sure it’s not on Wednesdays, Fridays or Mondays. That’s when I patrol.” Y/N grabbed her bundle and pushed herself into a standing position. “Hope your night gets better, Malfoy.”

“Thanks,” Draco said, genuinely.

Y/N continued down the corridor and disappeared around the corner in the direction of the Hufflepuff dorms. Draco looked back at the two halves of cookie in his hands, and took a bite. They were really good. He leaned his head back on the stone and let out a sigh. Maybe he should just go back to his dorm and sleep, for once. He could go to the Room tomorrow; he still had time.

 ༄

 Draco’s panic attacks were becoming more and more frequent, and he found himself spending more time in Myrtle’s bathroom than the Room of Requirement. This only caused his anxiety to rise more, a vicious cycle he was desperate to escape.

Myrtle hovered nearby, helpless as Draco dry-heaved over a toilet. He was sweating and shaking from cold at the same time, his teeth chattering while he watched sweat roll off his nose and into the murky water below.

“Draco, are you listening to me? You need to breathe, try to take slower breaths.”

He tried to listen to Myrtle, and successfully managed to get his hyperventilating under control. Draco sat back against the wall of the stall he was sitting in, and pulled his cloak over him like a blanket.

“See, look, much better,” Myrtle said. “Can you tell me what happened? Was it Harry again?”

Draco nodded. “He… Slughorn never delivered the wine to Dumbledore. He gave some to Weasley on accident, and he would’ve died if Potter didn’t give him the antidote. Fucking Potter,” he spat. “Why is it always him? He knows Myrtle, he must! This is the second time he’s been there when my plans went wrong. He’s going to figure it out. Merlin, if I just had more time…” Draco could feel his knees begin to shake again. He leaned his head back against the wall, pressing into it, trying to use the pressure to ground himself.

“Draco, please be reasonable. Harry can’t know-“

“YES HE DOES!” Draco screamed. It felt good to scream. “He might as well have seen my fucking Dark Mark, Myrtle!”

In the moment after Draco’s echoing yell, there was deafening silence. Draco glanced out of the door of the stall and noticed saddle shoes peeping out from around the corner. His blood froze.

Someone was in the bathroom.

Draco stood suddenly, the cloak falling from his knees as he drew his wand. He slid around the corner and pointed his wand near the neck of the eavesdropper, using his other hand to pin their shoulder back on the wall.

“Draco, don’t!” Myrtle cried.

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut, her arms raised up around her upper body instinctively. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“What did you hear?” Draco shouted. “What did you hear!”

Y/N cowered at Draco’s loud voice. “N-not a lot! I just… heard…” She gulped. “You said you had... a Dark Mark.” Y/N whispered the words.

Draco shrank away, putting his hands up to his face. Y/N was so nice… what would happen to her now that she knew? He felt the familiar fear grip at his chest again, and he leaned over one of the sinks to take a few steadying breaths. “I have to Obliviate you.”

“What?” Y/N said, fear in her voice.

“I have to!” Draco said, turning around to look at her. “You can’t know anything about this, anything about me. It’s dangerous— it’ll get you killed.”

“You don’t have to,” Y/N said, taking a step towards him. “I can help you, with whatever is wrong.”

“No,” Draco said. “You shouldn’t. You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

That was the first time she touched him. Her warm hands wrapped around his clammy, shaking ones. It had been so long since another person had touched him in such a gentle and comforting way. His wand steadied in his hand as her fingers settled over his.

“Just tell me,” she said, almost a whisper. “I’ll promise.”

They were tucked up in one of the bathroom stalls, backs against opposite sides with their knees brushing. They clasped each other’s wrists and looked into each other’s eyes, Y/N’s hawthorn wood wand casting the spell that wrapped around their intertwined hands like a golden rope as Myrtle said the words.

And then Draco told her everything.

“I’m so sorry Draco,” Y/N said, putting a hand on his knee. The combination of his first name and her touch made him shiver. “I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under, to save your family.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to,” Draco sighed, wiping a tear off his cheek. “The necklace has already failed, and I haven’t made any progress on the cabinet. And now the wine, another dead end.” He leaned his head back on the bathroom stall and stared off into space.

Y/N moved her hand away, and immediately Draco missed the warmth of her touch. She opened up her arms ever so slightly. “Would you like that hug now?”

Draco obliged, crawling over to lean into her chest. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders and braced her leg against the toilet to support the rest of his body. It had been months since Draco had had this much physical contact and felt so safe, he immediately started to sob again. As he cried into her shoulder, Y/N gently rubbed his back. Myrtle looked down at them and wiped away a ghostly tear of her own.

When Draco had cried until he could cry no more, he felt exhausted. He became aware his left arm had fallen asleep from leaning on it, and Y/N probably was even more uncomfortable, seeing as she’d been holding him like the child he was acting like. Draco pushed himself into a sitting position, but Y/N kept hold of his wrists as he pulled away.

“Ugh,” Draco groaned, disgusted, as he spotted the tear stains he’d left on Y/N’s white uniform shirt. “That’s so gross. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N shrugged. “I’ve had plenty of younger Hufflepuffs cry on me about loads of things.”

Draco pulled his right hand free of Y/N’s grip to retrieve his well-used handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. “Yes, I’m certainly acting like a bloody first-year, aren’t I?”

“Draco,” Y/N cooed. “Don’t downplay this. If I was in your position I would be crying all the time, too. This is something no one our age should ever have to do. It’s okay to feel weak sometimes.”

“But recently I feel this way all the time.”

“And that’s okay, too,” Y/N said sincerely. “If you ever want to talk or need help, I’m here. Please don’t hesitate to ask.” She squeezed his wrist gently.

Draco just nodded, wiping his nose one last time. Y/N glanced at her watch. “Come on, it’s dinner time. If we splash some cold water on your face no one will be able to tell you’ve cried by the time we get to the hall.” She stood and offered her hands to help Draco up. As they left, Y/N called goodbye to Myrtle. “I come here on Thursday afternoons and we read. You should come, if you have time to relax for a bit.”

“I’d like that,” Draco said. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re being really nice about this while I’m a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it. My lips are sealed.” She said it casually and walked off, leaving Draco in the corridor so they didn’t go in together. Her words resonated with him, though. She’d made the unbreakable vow to him, someone she barely knew. Draco would have found this suspicious if it was anyone else, but Y/N just radiated positivity, and Draco felt drawn to her like a moth to the flame. If he wasn’t more careful, he would burn.

 ༄

 On Thursday, sure he was too late, Draco burst into the second-floor bathroom. Myrtle and Y/N we seated on the bench at the end of the room. Myrtle cocked her head to the side in interest, while Y/N smiled. “You came.”

The afternoon sun was filtering in through the old windows, causing her yellow tie to glow golden. Her hair was down today. Maybe I shouldn’t have, Draco thought.  “Yeah,” he said instead.

“Come on, Draco.” Myrtle encouraged. “We’re reading The Little Prince.”

“French or English?” Draco asked as he approached.

“French,” Y/N said. “I’m learning.”

“Well, I speak French,” Draco responded. “I can help.”

From that day on, Draco joined Y/N and Myrtle in the bathrooms on Thursdays to read, and just generally enjoy each other’s company. It was a nice break from brewing deadly potions in his room and researching new hexes in the library, or doing otherwise untowardly things. He was beginning to associate the girl’s second-floor bathroom with more than just panic attacks.

Y/N was teaching him all sorts of lovely things. She could play the guitar very well. Singing, not so much, but she did her best anyway. Draco didn’t mind listening to her off-key voice, because she had a great time playing for him and Myrtle. Sometimes if they met up after later in the evening, Y/N would bring cookies from the kitchen and she and Draco would share them as they walked, finishing them before getting to the bathroom so Myrtle wouldn’t get jealous.

Y/N wore thick socks all the time, since she self diagnosed as being cold-blooded. She owned a collection of knit sweaters in earth tones. She always wore a set of small earrings of a matching moon and star that glittered mysteriously in dim light. She had perfectly shaped fingernails. She said ‘fluxweed’ with an Irish accent despite having no Irish upbringing. Every time her fingers made contact with his bare skin, he felt electrified and instantly calm all at once.

Draco was forming a terrible, terrible crush on the Hufflepuff Prefect.

He felt awful about it. Even though they only ever talking about his task to kill Dumbledore if Draco was the one who brought it up (he still panicked over it often), he couldn’t help but feel as if he was dragging her down with him. Draco was quickly becoming attached to her. His emotions were like a rollercoaster, up and down at the littlest inconvenience or kind gesture from his new friend. Draco knew he was obsessive and would easily fall hard, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Her touch was the most intoxicating thing about her, and he needed it.

She could read him like no one else. One day, they switched robes just for fun. Draco’s emerald tie jumped out against her skin, and made his own tingle with want. His robe swallowed up her frame since she was so much shorter, and he watched as she spun around the bathroom.

Draco admired her yellow tie as he adjusted it around his neck. Her yellow-trimmed robe ended just below his knee, and he looked like an overgrown third-year. Draco looked at his reflection in the mirror. Yellow was definitely not his color, but he couldn’t help but wonder what he would be doing if he wore it every day instead of green.

Y/N almost immediately caught onto his somber mood, and joined him in looking in the mirror. She gazed at their opposite reflections. “I dunno if yellow is really your color.” She totally read his mind.

“I was thinking the same. But, maybe if I was a Hufflepuff, my life would be better,” he said honestly.

Y/N hooked her arm around his. “Maybe,” She mused. “But think about all the other great things you are that you wouldn’t be if you were a Hufflepuff. ”

“I feel like there used to be lots of things about myself I took pride in, but now I feel like they’re all a curse,” Draco mumbled.

“Think more simple,” Y/N said. “You’re a quick thinker. You’re super smart, and you learn things so fast. I think all your housemates helped you cultivate those things when you were younger, whereas in Hufflepuff it might’ve been different things.”

Draco felt floored. He’d never even considered that. He just assumed his last name and blood status would carry him no matter what house he was in. As her words still rattled around his skull, he checked his watch on instinct. They’d been here for and hour and a half– he needed to work on the vanishing cabinet today and he had to get new books from the library. “I’ve got to go,” he said to his friends apologetically.

He and Y/N switched back their robes. The collar of his now smelled faintly of her lavender shampoo. They bid their goodbyes to Myrtle and walked together down to the dungeons. “Not to like, be Snape or whatever, but are you sure you don’t want any help?”

“Oh, I’d love help, just not from him.” Draco chuckled dryly. “That doesn’t mean you should come up though, this isn’t your problem to worry about and I don’t want you to be involved in… this.” He quickly amended.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Hm.”

When Draco went up to the room later that night after dinner, Y/N was waiting on him, casually doing paces in front of the wall where the door to the Room would appear. “Y/N, you need to leave.”

Y/N shifted the two thick books in her arms. “No. You said you want help, and I’m here.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.” Draco stood his ground. There was no way he was going to let her get in this deep with him. “I’m not getting you this directly involved.”

“I can see how stressed you are over this,” she argued. “I won’t let you suffer alone over fixing this dumb piece of furniture.”

As her voice echoed in the corridor, Draco heard steps coming from the opposite direction. He quickly summoned the door and yanked Y/N in with him before whoever it was could find them standing there. The door turned into wall behind them, and Draco spun around to face Y/N. “Wait five minutes and then you can leave through here again,” Draco instructed. “I’m not letting you come with me.” He turned to go find the cabinet among the towering stacks of junk, but Y/N caught his arm.

“Draco! Stop, just let me help you.”

“You already help me plenty,” Draco replied, exasperated, not turning around to look at her.

Y/N’s grip softened, and she walked around to stand in front of him. “Please, just show me where it is?”

Oh, Merlin. How the bloody Hell was he going to say no when she was looking up at him like that? Draco swallowed a lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re not touching it, okay?”

Y/N followed him through the narrow paths between the piles until they came upon the cabinet. It was deep in the room, and after spending hours in this one spot Draco had moved most of the junk out of the way so he could work. In the cleared area around the cabinet, there was a ancient looking couch and a table pushed off to the side. Draco set the book he’d brought on the table and pulled the cloth off the cabinet.

Y/N set her own books down on the table and took off her cloak. She joined Draco in front of the cabinet and they peered inside at the empty interior, always gently illuminated. “So what’s exactly… wrong with it?” She asked.

“I can only transport inanimate objects. Anything living dies.” Draco closed the door back, not wanting to look in anymore.

Y/N crossed her arms and considered it a moment longer. Then she sat down on the floor next to the table, rolled up her sleeves and cracked open one of her spell books. “Have you tried checking the cabinet for external damages? Magic seeping from the inside can cause transportation to be disrupted or loss of limbs.”

I can’t believe I’m letting her help me, Draco thought as he knelt down to look for any cracks on the bottom of the cabinet.

 ༄

 Y/N came to the Room with him often after that. On days she had Prefect patrols, she would slip pieces of parchment into his school bag that had notes or ideas she’d written down for him, or leave a book waiting for him in the library checked out in her name. On days she didn’t, Y/N would accompany him. Just as Draco had asked, she never worked on the cabinet directly. She would just add notes in Draco’s notebook, and help him with wand movements for new spells.

The more time they spent together, their friendship grew. On especially long nights, she would sit on the couch and he would sit on the floor between her legs, so she could massage his tight shoulders while he studied a new book. She would remind him not to bite the edges of his thumbnails, and he would let Y/N rest her head on his shoulder. When that happened, it was hard for Draco not to nap also. Sometimes he did, head on the table while their legs were pressed up against each other, or he would doze while she worked the tension out of his muscles. It was always peaceful sleep.

When she fell asleep, Draco always made sure he never woke her up until he was going to leave. She would drift off with her nose in a book or sprawled out on the couch, lips slightly parted. She looked so calm while she slept. Draco would sometimes brush her hair back and lay her cloak across her shoulders so she could be more comfortable.

One night, Draco sighed and flopped down on the old couch next to Y/N, laying his head in her lap. He hadn’t realized he’d done it until she rested her hand on his hair, smoothing it back ever so gently. She was still engrossed in the spellbook, and Draco allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy her intoxicating touch. Each brush of her hand eased away his anxiety and replaced it with a sense of calm.

He snapped his eyes open, suddenly aware he’d fallen asleep. Y/N smiled down at his disoriented face.

“How long was I out?”

“Not very long, like twenty minutes or so,” she said as he sat up. “I figured you could use a bit of rest.”

Draco rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair to shake off the grip of sleep. He was loath to leave her lap and her gentle touch. “I couldn’t help it, the way you were touching my hair just put me to sleep,” he admitted.

“I know.” She grinned. “My mum used to do it to me when I was younger, when I was too excited or nervous.” Y/N put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I think we should get back. You need to rest, and we can look for new spells tomorrow.”

Draco sighed, defeated. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

As the two of them walked through the empty halls, Y/N glanced at her watch. “Merlin it’s late. I’m glad I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

Draco looked over at her. She was holding the spellbook they’d borrowed with both arms, and her hair had begun falling loose from its bun like it usually did, short tendrils of her locks begging for him to wrap his fingers around them. The words spilled out before he could stop them. “Do you want to sleepover?”

Y/N looked over, eyes wide with surprise. “Sleepover? Like, in your dorm?”

Shit. “Er, yes. I mean, obviously you don’t have to. Sorry, it was stupid of me to–”

“It’s alright.” Y/N interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Right.” Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment for a moment. “It’s just–”

“I’ll–”

They both said at the same time. They had reached the bottom of the stairs to the dungeons, and Draco stopped and turned to her.

“You go ahead,” Y/N said, looking up at him.

“No, it’s embarrassing, just forget I asked.” Draco averted his eyes.

Y/N let out a quiet laugh. “It’s okay Draco, just tell me. You don’t have to feel sorry around me,” she reminded him again.

Draco let out a sigh and rested his hands in a fist on his forehead. The more he thought about it the more he’d wished he hasn’t said anything. He closed his eyes, too self-conscious to look at her while he said it. “I have nightmares every time I sleep. Except... when I fall asleep when I’m around you.” He cracked open his eyes to see Y/N staring up at his with a wide, expectant gaze. “You don’t have to, I could understand if that would be weird or crossing some friendship boundary, and it’s really selfish of me.”

Y/N smiled gently. “Of course it’s not. I’m… glad I can help.” She shifted on her feet. “I’d love to sleep over.”

“Really?” Draco asked, dropping his hands down in disbelief.

“Sure. But, I can’t sleep in my uniform.” Y/N gestured to her button-down and skirt that she was still dressed in.

“You can borrow something of mine.” Draco said quickly. Eager much?, he inwardly cringed.

“Alright.” Y/N nodded. “You lead the way.”

They passed the entrance to the Hufflepuff dorms and went down further, under the lake. They stopped between two columns on what looked like a blank wall. Draco whispered the password, and the bricks shifted to open up. “Fancy,” Y/N muttered.

The common room was empty and quiet, only embers left in the fireplace. Draco quickly walked over to where the boys dorms were. “I’ve got to carry you,” Draco breathed, almost inaudible. “The charms.” Y/N nodded, and pointed to his back. Draco bent down and she climbed on, and together they made their way up the steps. Draco’s heart was racing― he couldn’t imagine the trouble he would be in if Crabbe or Zabini saw him carrying a Hufflepuff girl into his dorm room at one in the morning. Draco was vaguely aware this would become a problem come morning, but he decided to focus on getting to his room first.

Draco unlocked his door with his wand nonverbally, and shuffled in the small door. Y/N slipped off his back and he closed the door behind them. He quietly reveled in their success before he turned back to Y/N. It wasn’t until then that he remembered the state of his room.

“Oh, Draco,” Y/N sighed, sounding sad. Indeed, his room looked exactly how one might expect someone in his mental state to be living in. Snape had ensured Draco had a room all to himself to work on his task, and while the privacy was nice, it just gave Draco more space to make a mess. He’d left the candle next to his desk alight all evening, and the wax filled the tray below. The two small dorm beds he had pushed together to create one big one was unmade and badly needed fresh sheets. Papers and clothes littered the floor. Books and parchment rolls filled one desk, while his second still had his cauldron on it and all the ingredients strewn about. Draco walked over to his work desk and quickly closed his diary, setting it to the side.

“I know, it’s bad,” he sighed. Y/N set their spellbook next to where he was leaning on the desk and walked over to his cauldron.

“What were you brewing?”

“Wideye potion, it keeps me awake during the day since I don’t sleep much at night,” he confessed.

“Why don’t you just brew a sleeping draught instead? You know the effects of long term Wideye use,” Y/N said, concerned.

“Believe me, I do know,” Draco said. “I tried the sleeping draught first, but it puts me in such a deep sleep I can’t wake up when I have a nightmare. Three nights of having to sleep through excruciating dreams was more tiring than sleeping four hours and drinking Wideye the next day.” He looked over at her.

Y/N looked so sad. She walked back across the room and wrapped her arms around his middle. Draco sighed as he pressed his nose into her hair. “Well, let’s see if not sleeping alone can help,” she said into his chest. She pulled away and patted him. “Can I have some pyjamas?”

Draco waved his wand and opened two drawers of his wardrobe. “You can get something clean out of there. They might be a bit big when you put them on.”

“That’s fine.” Y/N walked over to the wardrobe and began to shuffle through the clothes.

Draco picked up his own pyjamas from the last night off the bed. “Take your time, I’ll wait in the bathroom. Just tell me when I can come out.”

“Okay.”

Draco closed the bathroom door behind him and slumped against it. Merlin, he’d really done it now. Invite her to sleepover? What was he thinking? He was doing a horrible job of trying to keep her safe― in fact, it was getting worse every time they hung out. Draco threw his pyjamas on the floor and rested his head on the cool tile of the sink, and sighed. He was so, so selfish. And needy. Y/N was so nice, and didn’t deserve to be caught up in all this.

Draco changed clothes and put some Brushing Bugs in his mouth to clean his teeth. Y/N’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “I’m ready,” she said softly from the other side of the door.

Draco opened the door and saw Y/N waving her wand, cleaning the mess of his room and putting things back in order. She’d let her hair down and put on one of his white tee shirts he wore under his uniform button-downs and a pair of his black silk pyjama pants. And her butt looked really good. His jaw went slightly slack at the sight of her, a stray Brush Bug almost escaping his lips. Y/N turned to see him staring helplessly from the door of the bathroom.

The last few parchments shuffled themselves into a stack and she walked over, the long pant legs swishing around her feet. “Do you have any toothpaste?” She asked.

Draco wordlessly held out his glass container of Brushing Bugs, and she gasped. “You have Bugs? Oh, I should've known, since you’re a Pureblood. I’m the only girl in Hufflepuff who uses them still, everyone else thinks they’re gross.” She took the tiny spoon out of the holder on the side of the jar and popped a spoonful of the small bugs in her mouth.

They waited for the Bugs to finish, standing in the bathroom in silence, taking turns making faces at each other. Draco eventually got to laughing too much and spit his Bugs out into the sink. Y/N followed suit. “ Am I shiny?” She asked, baring her teeth.

“Very shiny. Me?” Draco made a similar face.

“Squeaky clean,” she replied. “Just like your room.”

“Thanks for doing that. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

God, Draco didn’t deserve her. He turned off the bathroom light, and they walked out. “Which side do you sleep on?” She asked.

“Well, usually the middle. But I can sleep on the right.”

“Oh good, I like sleeping on the left anyway.”

“Sorry it’s a mess. I haven’t had time to make it in a while,” Draco said as they settled into the pushed together beds.

“Remember what I said about apologizing?” Y/N chastised, laying down and looking at Draco as he extinguished the candle and carefully placed his wand on the bedside table.

“Hmm, no. Having trouble recalling it right this moment.”

“That’s more like it.”

The room was mostly dark except for the dim moonlight filtering through the water and into the window that looked out into the lake. A fish swam by, casting a gentle shadow as it passed.

They both laid on their backs and stared up at the ceiling, a distance of about eight inches between them. Draco tried to take a quiet breath, painfully aware they were both awake and aware the other was also awake and knew they were both thinking about how awkward it was. So awkward. He didn’t feel very relaxed anymore.

Y/N shifted beside him. Draco decided to just go for it.

He lifted up the covers so he could move and scooted across the space in the middle of the bed. He pressed his body up against hers, resting his head near her shoulder. Her arm that his torso was touching twitched just the smallest bit. “Is this okay?”

The second it took Y/N to respond seemed to stretch on forever. “Of course,” she whispered. “Just, do this instead.” She moved up just the slightest bit and slipped her right arm under Draco’s head, so he rested on the flat spot of her shoulder just above her breast. She pulled his right arm over across her torso.

Draco felt instantly more comfortable. He moved his left arm so it wasn’t quite so squished underneath him and pulled her closer. Y/N’s right hand came up to his head and she gently started to smooth his hair like she’d done in the room an hour ago. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Draco feel asleep almost immediately.

 ༄

 The next morning, Draco woke up first. Awakening felt like he was dragging himself from the deepest most thick depths of sleep, and the second he opened his eyes he felt the need to close them again.

But oh, he would never.

Because Y/N was tangled in his arms, his legs, the tips of her fingers were settled gently against his chest, and her soft breaths were hitting the bare skin of his neck. He wished he could see her face, but what he could see of her body from his limited view of being cuddled up next to her was more than enough.

He strained his eyes to look at the clock on his desk, not wanting to move his head. It was just past nine. Draco hadn’t slept this late all school year. And he was still tired! He gently ran his fingers over Y/N’s hair, enjoying the feeling of her chest rising and falling against his own. He felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to move.

Draco was only able to enjoy the feeling for five, precious minutes. Three sharp knocks on his bedroom door were enough to make his heart stop.

Y/N sleepily opened her eyes at the sound. “Wh-” She started, but Draco pressed a finger to her lips.

“Hide.” He whispered urgently. Y/N was instantly awake. They detached from each other and Draco went to the door. He didn’t see where Y/N hid, just heard the whoosh of the sheets being thrown.

Draco opened the door and gave his best pissed off stare to an equally disgruntled looking Snape. “What.”

“Watch your tone, Malfoy.” Snape drawled. He brushed past Draco and into the room.

“Come in, why don’t you.” Draco rolled his eyes and shut the door. “You’re the one who woke me up. What do you want?”

“Oh, have time to sleep in, do we?” Snape asked, condescendingly.

“I told you, I’ve been working on it. I’ve got it handled, alright?” Draco raised his voice. “I don’t care how much you wish this was you. Stop acting like you care about helping me.”

Snape grabbed Draco roughly by his arm. “You think the Dark Lord is patient, Draco? If you take much longer, he might decide your family doesn’t deserve any mercies, regardless whether you succeed or not.”

Draco wrenched his arm out of Snape’s grasp. “Get out of my room,” he growled.

“Good to see you’ve finally cleaned.” Snape left the room and slammed the door behind him, robes swishing.

Draco let out a sigh. He looked back at the bed, where the sheets were messed up. A small lump was in a spot where the sheets should have been smooth, so Draco walked over and pulled the covers back.

Smack in the middle of his bed was a grey and brown ferret, staring back up at him with beady eyes. No sooner had Draco processed this, the ferret grew and morphed until he was staring at Y/N, laid flat out on her back, instead.

“Um, surprise?”

Draco’s jaw was slack. “Bloody hell… you never told me you were an Animagus.”

“I dunno… it never really came up.” Y/N sat up and gave a hopeful smile and a shrug.

Draco rubbed his face. “Okay. Alright. No offense to you at all, but this would be a lot easier for my brain to handle if your animal wasn’t a ferret.”

Y/N looked back blankly for a moment, then burst out into laughter. “Merlin, I totally forgot about that!” She kept giggling, falling back into the bed. Her laugh was so intoxicating, Draco found himself laughing a little, too.

“It was actually a very traumatic experience, I’ll have you know.” Draco tried to hold down his laughter with a pout.

“I’ll tell you about traumatic! How about waking up and having Snape walk into your friend’s bedroom in the span of five seconds, and then only have a single sheet to hide under.” Y/N countered.

“Uh, last I checked,” Draco said, pointing. “I was there too, except I had to talk to Snape instead of getting to hide.”

“Fine!” Y/N groaned. She sat back up and dangled her legs over the side of the bed, poking Draco’s shins with her toes. “Maybe next time we should sleep in my dorm. Professor Sprout never checks on me.” The shock Draco felt from the invitation must’ve shown on his face because Y/N started stammering. “I-I mean, if I helped, that is. With the sleeping. With your dreams, I mean.”

“No. Yes. Yes, it definitely helped.” Draco put his hands on her shoulders. “I haven’t slept that well in months.”

“Really?” Her voice was a mix of excited and sad.

Draco nodded. “If there’s ever a day like today where you don’t have anything to do–”

“Nope,” Y/N cut him off. “We can have a sleepover anytime. I want to make sure you’re getting rest, and if it’ll get you off Wideye, even better.”

Oh, how badly Draco needed to turn her down. “Y/N, I can’t impose on your personal time like that.”

But she was shaking her head at him. “I don’t care. I sleep every night, might as well be useful while I’m at it.”

“Are you sure I wasn’t too clingy?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t crowd you?”

“Nope.”

“I didn’t bother you at all?”

“Nooooope.”

Draco threw his head back. Here I go again, he thought. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

Y/N grinned. Draco’s heart clenched. “Come sleep in Hufflepuff tonight. I’m excited for you to see my room.”

“Okay.” Draco couldn’t help but smile. The urge to kiss her was becoming almost overwhelming, so he stepped away from her and sat in his desk chair.

Y/N peeked at the clock behind him. “It’s past breakfast, but lunch will be soon. I really need to shower, so I’ll just see you there. Maybe we can go to the Room and try more spells later.”

“Don’t you have something better to do with your afternoon?” Draco tried to discourage her.

Y/N shrugged. “Not really.” She scooped her neatly folded stack of clothes off the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. She emerged dressed in her robes from the day before, and put her borrowed pyjamas on the bed. Draco handed her her wand. “Last night I was worried about how I would get you out of here without anyone noticing, but I see we’ve solved that problem.”

Y/N threw him a wink. “I still need someone to open the door.”

 ༄

 Draco had come to another selfish dilemma. He and Y/N were now having platonic sleepovers three, and sometimes four nights a week. Y/N didn’t mind. Draco certainly didn’t. Except once he was alone in his bed back in Slytherin, he realized how attached he was to her. She was like a drug for his calmness and stability, and if he went too long he felt himself falling into his destructive habits again.

Oh no.

As much as he would scold himself when he was alone, when they were together, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was what he’d been missing all this time. Someone who cared about him, who was nice, and uplifting. Someone who found his presence just as enjoyable, instead of feeling like they needed to be friends, were expected to keep each other’s company. Y/N was a lovely girl and the perfect friend, and Draco was desperate to keep it that way, despite wanting more. He was very good at overthinking with his heart.

Draco loved hanging out with her alone in their rooms. While he appreciated Myrtle and what she’d done for him, she was mopey and cynical. Not really her fault, he supposed people just got that way when they died. Spending time in the Room was what had brought him and Y/N closer, but being in there was always a somber reminder of his horrible assignment. Her coming to his bedroom under the lake made his lonely room more bright, but it always seemed to get more depressing every time she left. Y/N’s room was Draco’s favorite place to be.

She had the wide, comfy, four poster bed all Prefects had the luxury of sleeping in. Big windows overlooked the hills behind Hogwarts facing the Forbidden Forest, making her entire room glow warmly in the fading sunlight. Above her desk were strings laden with photographs, newspaper clippings, and quotes neatly written with the book they came from below. She had plants on her window sills, even though she said she was no herbologist. She had a record player and lots of vinyls, and she would put them on and play along with her guitar sometimes.

Draco and Y/N stood in her bathroom having a staring contest in the mirror while they did their brushing bugs. They had on what Y/N had called their “matching pyjamas”. Y/N was wearing her pale blue nightgown and Draco was wearing one of her soft long-sleeve shirts that was almost the same color, and a pair of his own pyjama pants he kept in her room.

Y/N finished with her bugs first and rinsed her mouth. She glanced down at Draco’s hands resting on the counter. “Can I see it?” She asked gently.

Draco froze for a moment. Despite having slept together and sharing clothes, Y/N had never seen him without his shirt off. Y/N knew Draco had a Dark Mark, but even since that first day in the bathroom she’d never asked him more about it. Draco gave her a small nod and spit out his own bugs.

He gently pulled his left sleeve up to his elbow to expose his scar. Right now it was pale red, stamped into his skin with magic. If the Dark Lord was to call his followers, it would burn and turn black and the snake would writhe, something Draco had learned from experience. Y/N stepped closer to take hold of his arm and gently traced her finger along the Mark. Draco suppressed a shiver.

“When I look at it,” Draco said quietly, “I don’t see what other people see. I don’t think about him, I just think about my parents. Especially my mum. I just want to protect my family.”

Y/N looked up and gave him a sad smile. “That’s what I see, too.”

A knock at the door made them both jump. Y/N recoiled away from him and Draco quickly drew his sleeve down. “One second!” Y/N called.

She grabbed her cardigan off her desk chair and pulled it on. A loud sniffle could be heard outside the door and Y/N gestured that Draco could come out from hiding in the bathroom. “It’s not Sprout,” Y/N mouthed.

Standing at the door in her pyjamas was, what looked like to Draco, a first year, tears streaming down her face and a wet handkerchief clutched in her fist. “Hey, Eloise,” Y/N soothed, gently guiding her into the room. “What’s wrong?”

Eloise caught sight of Draco leaning against the bathroom door frame and looked nervous. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t know your boyfriend was here.”

Y/N smiled good naturedly while Draco bit his lip to contain a chuckle. He and Y/N exchanged a glance. “It’s fine, Eloise. And Draco’s not my boyfriend, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh.” Eloise squeaked. “That’s just what Angelica told me.”

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked, sitting down in her desk chair and putting a hand on Eloise’s shoulder. “Potions work again?”

Eloise nodded. “Professor S-Snape was mean to me t-today and g-gave me extra work. B-But I already have s-so much as-stronomy homework…” Eloise sobbed again.

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath, El.” Y/N rubbed her hands up and down Eloise’s arms. “When do you have Potions tomorrow?”

“Two.” Eloise sniffed.

“What! That’s plenty of time. Tell you what,” Y/N said. “Just do your astronomy homework tonight. Tomorrow during lunch I can sit with you and help you finish your potions work, okay? I don’t care how much it is, we can get it done.”

Eloise nodded.

“Here.” Y/N unwrapped the bundle of extra cookies she and Draco hadn’t eaten earlier and handed one to Eloise. “Now go get cracking on that astronomy, I know you can do it. And make sure you get some sleep, don’t worry about Professor Snape tonight.”

Eloise fell into Y/N for a hug, and then Y/N ushered her out the door with a goodnight. She closed the door and leaned back on it to look at Draco.

“What are you making that face for?”

Draco put his hand over his heart. “That was kind of sweet, I have to admit. Is this what it’s like to be a nice Prefect?” He teased.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah, believe it or not, I remember how mean you were.” She slumped into her desk chair. “Maybe I’m too nice. You wouldn’t believe how often they come up here. Even the boys! No one ever goes to ask Renie to help with herbology essays or go tell their dorm mates to stop stealing their socks!”

“Is that why you let them think I’m your boyfriend?” Draco grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N wrapped her cardigan around her and tucked her legs up on the chair. “They never come up here when they see you walk in with me.” She mumbled.

Draco laughed and laid on the bed on his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. “It’s alright, I don’t blame you. Now you see why I just yelled at all of my lower-years.”

“Maybe you’re just scary,” Y/N teased. “Did you see how bad you scared her?”

“Yes,” Draco said slyly. “And I’ve never even seen her before. Must be my reputation.”

“Good thing you dispelled that cold-hearted reputation when we first met.” She shot back.

Is this flirting?  “Which time? The time I cried or the time I almost hexed you and then cried?” Okay, if we were, I definitely just totally and completely ruined that. Draco tried to play it off with a smile, but Y/N just got up and joined him on the bed.

She took hold of his left forearm again and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Even if everyone else thinks you’re cold hearted, just know that I don’t.”

Draco’s pulse was racing. “It’s nice of you to think that.”

“I know it.”

Y/N liked to rub her feet against the sheets or his legs while she slept. She always let her hair spill up across the pillow because she hated the feeling of it on her neck. Draco knew Y/N was deeply asleep because she would put one arm above her head and throw one of her legs across his own. Draco only knew all this because he would fight the urge to sleep so he could have as many memories of her as he could.

It was possible Draco had more than just a crush on her.

 ༄

 He heard it whispered in the hallways. Katie Bell. She’s back. Her name alone made Draco want to puke.

Yet he had to see her. Was she the same? Or had his awful curse he’d put on that necklace damaged her permanently? He needed to know. He booked it down the staircases towards the great hall, bumping shoulders the whole way.

Breathless, he stopped when he got into the hall, scanning the crowd. It wasn’t hard to spot the large group of girls between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. Standing in the middle of them was Katie herself, looking a bit pale but otherwise fine. She was talking to everyone. She was okay. Draco’s relief didn’t last long, however. He’d been too busy looking at Katie to realize Harry Potter was staring right at him. And now he was walking over. Quickly.

Draco immediately broke out in a cold sweat, turned, and started to speedwalk. Too fast to notice someone else get up and start following him, too. Hide, hide, I’ve got to hide. Where can I hide? Where does no one go? Draco was feeling dizzy, but he pushed on. He knew where he could go. He thought back to the time he had told Y/N everything, when he screamed to Myrtle that Harry knew he was a Death Eater. He knows.

Draco burst into Myrtle’s bathroom with blurry vision, gasping for air. He stripped off his uniform sweater and pulled at his tie, which felt like it was choking him. Myrtle heard his crying and flew out. “Draco? Draco, what’s wrong? Let me help…”

“No one… no one can help me Myrtle. Not you, not her…” He squeezed his eyes shut and felt his tears roll off his nose and into the sink. “He’s going to kill me… I’m going to die, Myrtle.” Draco choked out.

The bathroom door banged shut. Draco snapped his head up and looked into the dirty mirror to see Harry staring right at him. All his anxiety twisted into anger.

Barely thinking, he drew his wand and threw a hex. It narrowly missed Harry’s head, instead landing on the lamp behind him, causing it to explode. Harry was quick to return the favor and his own missed hex hit the faucet behind Draco, creating a waterfall.

“NO!” Myrtle screeched. “NO, NO!”

Draco dodged the spray and Harry ducked around to the other side of the bathroom stalls as Draco fired more curses at him. Water was quickly filling the floor of the bathroom.

“Fucking Potter,” Draco muttered, dodging another hex as it came his way. He was about to throw another curse when the bathroom door banged open again. Draco’s attention shifted, and he was horrified to see Y/N run into the bathroom.

Draco watched her face contort from confusion into fear as she took in the scene. Draco was so focused on Y/N he didn’t see Harry’s spell.

She did, though. Y/N drew her wand at the last second and flicked it, causing water to spiral up from the floor with a swoosh and intercept Harry’s curse. Water exploded across the bathroom in all directions. “Both of you, stop!” Y/N cried.

But Draco just took advantage of the momentary distraction to fire another curse at Harry. He was too angry to listen to Y/N right now. Unfortunately, Harry had the same idea, and ended up quicker than him. He screamed a curse Draco had never heard before.

“SECTUMSEMPRA!”

Immediately, Draco felt his skin open all over his body. His face, arms, chest, everywhere exploded in pain, and he could see the blood instantly. What did Potter do?

Draco staggered and fell back into the water on the floor. Y/N screamed.

“MURDER!” Myrtle screeched from above. “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!”

Draco grabbed weakly at his chest, already feeling himself fading from consciousness. He heard splashing and Y/N’s trembling voice.

“Draco? Draco! Oh, Merlin.” She knelt down beside him in the water, feeling a little dizzy herself as Draco’s blood seeped into the water covering the floor.

“No– I didn’t–” Harry tried to come closer, but Y/N turned on him, angrier than she’d ever been.

“What did you do! WHAT DID YOU DO!” She screeched, her voice cracking. Myrtle continued to wail overhead.

The sound of the door opening again drew everyone’s attention. Standing in the doorway looking absolutely murderous, was Snape. He strode in and pushed Harry out of the way, eyes trained on Malfoy. He didn’t have to ask Y/N to move back.

She trembled, tears rolling down her face as Snape moved his wand over Draco’s body, muttering a counter curse to Harry’s mysterious spell. Slowly, the blood subsided, she could see the cuts across Draco’s face and arms knit together and close completely.

Snape took Draco by the arm and got him standing. “Come, you need the hospital wing. There may be some scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. You,” he pointed at Harry. “Do not leave until I return.” Draco’s pale blue eyes were unfocused, and he clung to Snape’s arm as they left the room.

Myrtle had finally stopped yelling and was slumped over one of the bathroom stall walls crying. Y/N lifted her wand again and pointed it at the broken sink. The parts of the faucet flew back into place and the water ceased its spray. The rest of the bloodied water was slowing going down the drain on the floor. Y/N reached down into it to retrieve Draco’s forgotten wand, not minding much. The cuffs of her uniform shirt were already covered to the wrist in Draco’s blood. She cast Harry one last burning glance and left the bathroom.

In the hallway on the way to the infirmary, Draco was regaining his senses. Halfway there he was able to walk on his own and let go of Snape’s arm. “What the bloody hell is sectumsempra,”  Draco muttered, feeling his face for the cuts absentmindedly.

“A spell that was never intended to be shared with anyone,” Snape growled. “Especially someone like Potter.”

Snape swept Draco into the hospital wing and brushed past Madame Pomfrey, who did not question their haste. “Dittany,” was all Snape said as they passed.

Snape sat Draco on one of the beds. “Do it yourself.” Then he left.

When Madame Pomfrey arrived with the small bottle of dittany, Draco snatched it from her hands and drew the curtain on her, muttering a weak apology. He just heard her huff and walk away. Draco drank some dittany, then opened his soaked shirt to look for the deepest wounds. The biggest one he could see was across his chest. He slathered the dittany on anywhere he thought he saw a scar.

Draco was deeply absorbed in his dittany application, and reminiscing on the details of his almost death when he heard a familiar lilting voice carry across the empty infirmary. He held his breath to hear what she was saying.

“... just wanted return this. Will he be alright?”

“Just fine, miss L/N. It would be wise of you to not bother speaking of this again. Now, I must find out why mister Potter is instigating fights, again.”

“If it means anything to you, professor, I was only there because my responsibility as Prefect-”

“I don’t care what your intentions were, miss L/N. I said do not speak of this incident again. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Professor.”

Sharp footsteps that probably belonged to Snape faded away. He heard some more whispering, too low for him to hear, and then Y/N left as well. Draco watched his faint new scars fade away, then looked at the few drops of dittany left in the glass bottle. He wondered if it worked on Dark Marks, or hearts.

 ༄

 It was a Monday, which meant no matter how awful Y/N was feeling, she still had Prefect rounds to do. It had been hours since Draco and Harry’s fight in the bathroom, and she’d showered and changed shirts long ago. Yet she still kept looking down at her hands and expected to see them covered in Draco’s blood. Torrential rain had started during dinner, which seemed to reflect her mood.

Her conversation with Snape had scared her, and she dared not go hovering around the entrance to the Slytherin common room for fear of being caught by him. Draco hadn’t come to dinner though, and she was getting worried.

She walked through the barrel tunnel into Hufflepuff, where Reine, her fellow Prefect, nearly jumped her. “You’ve got a visitor.” That was all he needed to say.

Y/N ran up the stairs to the Prefect dorms and saw Draco waiting in front of her door. She didn’t stop, just ran right up to him and jumped into his arms.

“Merlin’s beard Draco,” she whispered into his neck, “I thought I was going to watch you die.”

Draco wrapped his arms around her and held her close, finally feeling safe. “I didn’t, don’t worry.”

“Worry?” She pulled back and took his face into her hands. “It’s been five hours and you were all I could think about.” She whispered.

The pair were oblivious to the group of lower years crowded around the base of the stairs, craning their necks to get a good look at their Prefect and her Slytherin ‘not boyfriend’. “She’s holding his face!” Angelica hissed. “Eloise, are you sure she said they’re not dating?”

Draco put Y/N back on the ground and she grabbed his wrist, pulling him into her room. The group at the bottom of the stairs let out a collective groan of disappointment. “I thought they were going to kiss for sure that time!”

Y/N slammed the door shut and she immediately attached herself onto Draco again, wrapping her arms around his middle and clinging for dear life. Draco rested his arms around her shoulders and buried his nose in her hair. They held onto each other for a moment, until Draco felt Y/N shudder against him.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you crying?” Draco tried to pull away, but Y/N just held on tighter. “Y/N, please look at me.” He could already feel his own eyes getting misty at the thought of making her cry.

She reluctantly pulled away, but didn’t look up. Draco watched a tear roll down her face and felt his heart get tight in his chest. “No, no, Y/N,” he whispered, wiping the tear away. “Look at me. I’m here, I’m alright.”

“It’s just–” She sniffed. “There was so much blood Draco. More than I’ve ever seen in my life,” she whispered, horrified. “I should’ve disarmed Harry faster, then maybe–”

“Y/N.” Draco dipped his head down to look her in the eye. “Listen; first of all, I haven’t gotten to properly scold you yet for following us in there.” Even though she was crying, that got a chuckle out of her, like Draco knew it would. “Second, there was nothing you could’ve done in that short amount of time to changed what happened, okay? That was all Potter’s fault, Snape said he doesn’t even know where he learned that spell and… Merlin, I can’t believe I’m saying this but… I don’t think he knew what it would do.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded, rubbing her eyes. “I just… I can’t lose you, is all.”

“You won’t.” It only took Draco half a second to realize that was probably a lie. Y/N didn’t seem to think about it too much though, because she just took up his hands.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re the one that got hurt, do you want to talk about it? Did the dittany work?”

“Yes, the dittany worked,” Draco said. “My face is perfect as ever.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, and ran her fingers across his forehead and down his cheek. “Yeah,” she chuckled again.

Draco took a breath. “I… I don’t know. It happened pretty fast. I just felt… open. I could hear you. And then Snape was there and I started to feel whole again. It happened very fast. I just remember it being cold and feeling heavy.” He shivered at the memory, still very fresh and vivid.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?” She asked earnestly.

“I just want to sleepover. And feel warm.” He said, feeling like a child asking his mother when he would be allowed to go play.

“Of course,” Y/N said. “Whatever you want.”

 ༄

 Draco woke up for the first time in a long time in the middle of the night. He was away from Y/N– maybe that was why. Their legs were still pressed together under her loose covers, but in his sleep he’d turned over and rolled away from her. Probably how it should be.

Draco carefully sat up in the bed, crossing his legs. Rain was still pouring outside, gently tapping on the glass windows. There wasn’t much moonlight out tonight with all the clouds. Rain was different up here in Y/N’s room, as opposed to under the lake where you could only hear the rain hitting the surface of the water above. Then again, everything was different when he was with her.

A raindrops rolled down the windows, Draco felt a familiar hopelessness fill his chest. Potter was onto him, badly. He’d nearly killed two of his classmates now with his less direct attempts on the Headmaster’s life, and now he’d nearly died himself. And he still wasn’t sure if the cabinet was ever going to be fixed. He was running out of time for his task.

There was also the matter of her. The girl who was currently sleeping peacefully in her bed, the only person who was the reason he wasn’t dead or insane yet. The one he so selfishly clung to, but also the one who wouldn’t leave him alone. Intrusive thoughts of all the horrible things that could happen to her at the hands of the Dark Lord began to fill his head, and he could feel the tears beginning at the corners of his eyes.

“Draco?”

He jumped a little, looking back to her spot still under the covers. She sleepily sat up, rubbing her eyes. Draco’s heart did a flip in his chest. “Are you alright?” She asked, her eyes focusing on his face as she became more awake. “Did you have nightmare?”

“No,” Draco replied, quickly wiping the moisture from his eyes with the sleeve of Y/N’s borrowed sweatshirt. He’d been unable to shake the cold feeling of the water and losing blood, but wearing the extra layer that was so deeply ingrained with the smell of her helped.

“You’re crying.” She noticed. “Tell me, what’s wrong?” She scooted over so her legs wrapped around his sitting body, resting her arms on his thigh.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” She gently put her hand on his forearm, rubbing her thumb back and forth across his sleeve in a comforting way. Her touch, so calming, was always the thing that helped him ground himself the best.

Draco let out a deep sigh. “You.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment. “Really?”

Draco looked down into his lap, where their hands were. He nodded. Y/N moved her hand away to shift  a little closer. Draco gathered his courage and straightened up to look at her.

Their faces were close. Y/N’s eyes, full of concern for him looked straight back in a way that made his breath catch. Her hair, even though messy from sleep, was still so enticing to his fingers. He made a mistake to look at her mouth.

Their lips connected in the softest, most tender kiss Draco had ever experienced. No grabbing of hair or slotting of mouths, just gently pressed against one another. The only part of them that was touching was their lips, but Draco had never felt more excited to touch her.

Until he realized what he’d just allowed to happen.

“Sorry,” Draco squeaked, pulling back just as quickly as he’d leaned in. “Oh my God, Y/N I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looked up at her, ready to apologize again, but the words died on his still-tingling lips when he saw how absolutely stricken she looked. “Fuck,” was all he could manage.

Her legs recoiled around him as she pulled them up to her chest. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought you’d want–”

“No, please don’t say that. I do want to,” he stammered. “I want you. I just…”

He couldn’t get the words out. Y/N’s face started to go blurry. He gripped the sheets of the bed in front of him to try and steady himself, but he could already feel his breathing starting to get shallow.

“Oh, Draco…”

He felt the bed move as Y/N sat in front of him, and she draped her legs over his so she was almost sitting in his lap. She took both his hands in hers, and Draco laced their fingers together with need and squeezed. He rested his head on her collarbone and tried to breathe in time with the rise and falls of her chest. “Merlin, this is so embarrassing,” he choked.

“It’s alright,” Y/N soothed. “It’s okay, Draco. Take your time.”

He managed to get his breathing back under control and he let go of her hands. He needed to focus. “We can’t… I can’t let me be with you,” Draco started. “It’s too dangerous. Do you know how bad it is already that we’re friends? That you sit with me in the Room every other night and help me with spells?”

“Of course I know,” Y/N answered.

“Yes, but look at me, Y/N. I’m going to be a murderer. And If I’m not them I’m going to be dead. And that almost already happened! I can’t do that to you. Us being together would be a doomed relationship. You deserve someone who’s so much better than I am.” Draco pushed his fingers against his chest.

“You don’t think I haven’t thought about that, too?” Y/N said breathlessly. “I can’t help myself either, Draco. The heart wants what it wants.” She put her hands up to rest on his cheeks, her thumb wiping away a stray tear he couldn’t stop from falling. “It would be nice if this was easy, Draco. But that’s life.”

“This isn’t life,” Draco mumbled, feeling too defeated to push her hands away. Instead he just leaned into her touch, wondering if it would be their last. “It’s fucked up.”

“Okay, yes, you’re right. It’s very fucked up. But it’s the fucked up life we’re living.” Y/N tilted his head up so he would look her in the eyes. “Why can’t you just let yourself enjoy this one thing, Draco? Why can’t we just enjoy each other?”

“Because I don’t deserve you,” he said. “I come with too much emotional baggage for me to feel okay with sharing it with anyone. And I notice how sad you get over me when I’m sad. I make you sad, not happy. I’m putting you through more than one ever should to another person.”

“But you make me so happy,” she countered. “Draco, I’m strong. You know this. You don’t have to protect me, you’re busy enough protecting yourself and your family. And I do get sad too, sometimes. But that’s just what happens when you care a lot about someone.”

Draco closed his eyes, trying to hold back his tears. “I care about you so much. I just want you to forget about me and not get caught up in all this.”

“I can’t, Draco.” She moved her fingers back into his hair and rested her palms on his jawline. “Can’t we just make each other happy for a little while?”

“You already make me happy.” He put one of his hands over hers.

“But we can’t just go back to the way things were.” Y/N whispered.

“No, I guess we can’t.” Draco finally looked back up at her.

“So can you please kiss me again?”

Draco could practically hear the the nails being hammered into his coffin as he whispered the word “Okay”.

Even though they’d both just been crying and Draco nearly had a full panic attack, he’d never had a better bloody kiss in his life. Her fingers were caressing his face and his neck with such love and care it made his toes curl and his breath sigh. He could finally press his fingers into her hips like he’d fantasized about for months, and the hitches in her breathing made his pulse jump.

Draco pulled Y/N further into his lap. Not a single item of clothing came off the entire time, but never had Draco ever felt so satisfied and happy after kissing than he did when they flopped back onto the pillows together.

“I’m such a mess,” Draco whispered into her hair as he smoothed it back like she did to help him sleep, pressing kisses along her hairline.

“A very smart, handsome, and caring mess.” Y/N amended.

“Your smart, handsome, and caring mess.”

“See, that’s not so hard.”

Draco gently pushed her onto her back and then hovered over her by bracing against his forearms. “I’ve had the most terrible crush on you for so long,” he said. “But I kept telling myself it wouldn’t be fair to you. I still don’t feel like it is, but please don’t ever feel like you can’t go. I want you to put yourself first.”

Y/N nodded. “I will, don’t worry.”

 ༄

 Y/N had the most enticing collar bones Draco had ever laid eyes on, and he loved to leave his mark on the delicate skin that covered them. She was shy and liked to put her shirt back on as soon as they were done. She had thirteen stretch marks on her left hip, and seventeen on her right— he’d counted them. The sensitive spot right behind her ear was the best place to kiss her.

For the first time all school year, Draco was feeling good. He was eating more than one meal a day. Wasn’t having panic attacks every four hours. He had the best girlfriend in the whole world, and finally, the cabinet had been mended.

Draco had caught another bird that day by bewitching a bush, and when it came back from the cabinet in Knockturn Alley alive and flapping, Draco had never felt more relieved. He and Y/N hugged in momentary excitement, but for Draco was quickly replaced with a sense of doom. Now that he’d succeeded, what would happen?

Y/N, as always, sensed his mood. “It’s out of your hands now, Draco.” She got up on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Come on, let’s go.”

They returned their spellbooks to Y/N’s dorm, then snuck to the kitchen to get cookies. Y/N suggested they do something different other than hang out in her bedroom, and go to the astronomy tower instead.

They laid on their backs side by side, munching on the cookies, watching the stars from the open observation porch and taking in the pleasant fresh air. “Are you up there?” Y/N asks.

“No, Draco is only visible in July. Ironic, because my birthday is in June,” Draco muses.

“Aw, school will be out then. You won’t get to point it out to me.”

“I know you have an astronomy textbook, you can figure it out.” The pair lapsed into silence.

“Hey Draco?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s gonna happen now?”

Draco wasn’t sure, actually. It was scary. “I’ll have to send an owl… then he’ll plan the rest, I suppose. I’ll just sit here and wallow in anxiety in the meantime. And… well, I don’t know about after.”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, and Draco did the same. She had that sad smile on her face when she took his hand into her own. “Will I get to see you again?”

Draco was quick to squeeze her hand reassuringly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Y/N wigged so they were closer together and turned her gaze back up to the sky. “... Do you think you’ll really do it?”

Draco blew out a slow breath through his nose. “I can’t imagine myself doing it, but it’s not like I have much of a choice. I always knew I would have to.”

Y/N didn’t say anything to that for a moment. “I hope Harry can stop him.”

“Merlin, me too.” Draco sighed.

The letter with the date came from Draco’s mother. Y/N held him like she had so long ago while he cried over it. Every day, he made sure he kissed her like it was their last. They spent as much time together as they could, and Draco even surprised her by getting her a bracelet when they went to Hogsmeade.

Draco insisted she sleep alone in her room the night of. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, and while he hated to leave her alone that last night, he couldn’t imagine anything worse than leaving her to go commit the worst crime of his life. They cried together in a corner of the third floor corridor, clinging desperately to one another.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you,” Draco couldn’t help but say.

“I’m glad you did.”

“I’m the neediest person ever.”

“It’s feels good to be needed.”

They parted ways, and Draco rubbed the tears from his eyes knowing he had something equally as difficult as leaving her ahead of him.

Y/N returned to her room that night sadder than ever. When she went into the bathroom to get out her brushing bugs from her medicine cabinet, a little piece of paper fell off of the bottom. She unfolded it to see the words ‘love you always’ in looping cursive, and cried anew. She clipped it to her strings above her desk, next to the only picture she had of him— an instant photo of him in her Hufflepuff sweatshirt, his hands covering his face except for his eyes peeping in between his long fingers. It barely moved, but if you looked long enough, the Draco in the photo would blink his long beautiful lashes.

She put on the pair of his pyjama pants he’d left in her room and fell asleep without cleaning her teeth.

 ༄

 The day after, Y/N laid on her back on the observation porch, looking up at the cloudy sky, arms and legs spread out wide. Since this was where it happened, she assumed no one would bother her up here. Footsteps on the stairs told her otherwise. She didn’t move to see who it was, but as soon as they reached the top someone spoke.

“Y/N?”

To her surprise, it was Hermione Granger. And Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley. Of course; were they ever apart? She sighed and turned away. Draco’s cold attitude towards them must have rubbed off on her. “Hello.”

Hermione came to stand over her and looked down. “Harry told us you were in the bathroom that day.”

“Just doing my job as Prefect,” Y/N answered. “Dueling is strictly prohibited.”

Hermione walked away, but the three of them didn’t leave. Instead, the moved to the other side of the telescope and looked over across the courtyard in silence.

“Did he do it, Harry?” Y/N asked, unable to hold back any longer.

“What?” Harry said, sounding surprised.

“Draco. Did he do it?” She looked over to see Harry’s face.

He looked confused, but didn’t question her knowledge of his involvement in Dumbledore’s death. “No,” Harry said finally. “It was Snape. Draco couldn’t.”

Y/N turned back to looking at the sky and let out a short exhale, not quite a laugh. “He didn’t… he didn’t do it after all.”

[zi-i-think]

Her Sun His Moon • Zuko x oc •

He rose by the sun while she rose by the moon

Ama was the first born child of Kya and Hakoda. She and her two siblings, Katara and Sokka, join Avatar Aang in his quest to learn the elements. Finding adventure and love along the way.

There by each others side to end the war, Ama and Zuko are both trying to build a new world while simultaneously dealing with their relationship. What happens when Ama leaves? And what happens when she returns? When old wounds come back to bite, how will they respond?

Follow the rigorous journey of the Southen Water Tribe girl and the Fire Lord.

Rated M

.☽☼☾.

Disclaimer ☽☼☾

I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender. I only own Ama, the plot (starting on chapter 8) and any other characters that are not recognizable from the tv series or comics.

I do not own the artwork or gifs used. I edited the cover but that is it.

Note ☽☼☾

1. Do not steal my work! I am really trying my best to write this while also juggling other things. Taking someone's idea and claiming it as your own is illegal, not to mention rude.

2. Updates may take a while. I have lots of school work to do, so I'm sorry if it takes a few weeks to get the next chapter out. Plus, if I'm not satisfied with how a chapter is, I may be going back and redoing it. This is a lot of work and it takes some time.

3. There will be some nasty language, or a lot. Beware to the little 10 to 13 year old who stumbled across this. I curse, my characters curse, it happens. And this book has a lot of nasty language that's used like its any other word.

4. There will be sexual themes. Weird reading the word sex, right? I will reference it, mainly. I am still thinking about writing a smut chapter or two. So, you guys can let me know if you want that cause I would like to try it out. I would be putting a warning before the chapter, though.

5. I will not tolerate any negative comments. If you want to say something rude, go ahead and message me individually, I will not give a shit. But for you to say something rude in the comments hateful and I will block you. This does not include comments such as, "This character is really staring to piss me off." I mean anything directed to any other readers or communities (LGBT+, POC, etc.). Plus I will write LGBT character(s) in this book. If you're not okay with then you can take your homophobic ass elsewhere.

6. Votes and comments. In order to update, I will need to be motivated. I have so much work to do and even one click on the star would get me to be like "You love me! You really love me!" And I'll update for ya.

Regarding the comments, I love reading comments. They make my day, truly. Also, if you want to advertise your own story go right ahead! I don't mind at all. Hopefully you'll be less shy about it now. If you will advertise your story, do it anywhere in this chapter.

7. Mistakes. Just tell me if there's a grammar or spelling error. Or if I got a fact wrong, sometimes I'm too stupid for my own good.

8. Just enjoy! I'm sorry if these seem like a lot or if I seem rude, I just really want this to be a safe place for myself and you all. I love this idea and hope you do, too! But, please vote, comment, and get this story to other people.

XOXO,

               Zi_I_Think

[blankdblank]

Next Caller Pt 41

Lost to his usual task of filling in for an employee in his tea shop Thorin’s intrigue is sparked by a mysterious green haired customer who instantly draws his attention and urge to help better their life. All the while the Durins are lost to the struggle of finding out who is behind the scandalous radio show with characters supposedly from their famous clan.

Pt 1

.....

Giggles came when at home seeing the doodled birds across the board around a slightly sloppy flower Dot had puffed up happily in your complimenting her work and flew off the head to bed with the others. After adding the dried paint brush back to the garage with the others you joined Thorin for a late cup of tea where he asked, “I was thinking about tomorrow.”

“Big plans for family?”

“No, you mentioned you needed to shop for rugs for your studio, I know a place if you wanted to go tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Tired?” He asked wetting his lips and you shook your head.

“Thought I might get a bit more done on those sketches. You?”

“Might just watch a film, or two, if you’d like to join after?”

“You can watch in my room if you like, I can see it through the doorway.”

Smirking at the mini compromise he nodded, “Ok, sounds good.” Carrying your mugs through to your room he settled on the bed a bit awkwardly while you readied in the study getting back to the right point mentally in the commercial you were sketching. Leaning back against the pillows he found a film he put on hearing you beginning to sketch.

Painstakingly you got through with Beatrice’s part at least for the full commercial and wrapped the final bundle texting Glori on your progress so far. Still you had to add the background and all the coloring and agreed upon text, but with a stagnant background layout of the full room it would be easier to just have the background shifted slightly with the character images flipping in front of it. The final product wouldn’t be pristine as sketching each frame background for the full commercial but as a preview for what was to come it would do wonders to bait people into seeing just what your book was about.

Smoothing your hands over your face you stood up and stretched making your way to the bed shutting off the lights in the study. Upon seeing you Thorin smiled and watched your stroll to the bed you climbed onto and across to lay down with your head on top of his belly. “Get a lot done?”

You nodded and sighed back using your toes to ease your socks off onto the floor by the bed feeling his fingers timidly grazing your hair helping to pull it off your neck and out of your face to lay behind you. “Got Beatrice done, just have to do a background layout next to finish it off.”

“How difficult is that, you’ll have to redo all those thousands of panels again?”

“No, you, it’s like me sketching this room, and it sits still while the character panels flap in front of it, so you can just scoot it over if they move through the room, or this case Palace. It won’t be flawless but for a commercial it should be suitable. I’ll do that, get it colored and let them look it over, hopefully they won’t want me to redo it fully panel by panel.”

“I doubt they would make you redo it. From what I’ve heard over 500,000 copies of your stickers have sold so far.”

“Yup, sent off Wolsey’s sketch last week to get ready to add them to the production mix.”

Smirking to himself he asked, “When will you get to the Bunny ones.”

“Might not, if anything the same one with the chair and the phone.”

“Why not just draw you?” At that you giggled and his fingers deliberately and tenderly combed through your hair close to your scalp, “They would sell like crazy.”

“And I can hear it now, the world in uproar because I wrote one of the biggest self insert books to be published with Bunny staked for Durin the Deathless no less.” At that he chuckled. “I think the mystery is best. Besides, your clan hasn’t shared his true love’s face or name, why should I try to pretend I know?”

“If you change your mind you have our support.” Steadily making his way to a timid scalp massage to help you relax after the no doubt straining task only to notice your leg shifting making him ask, “Is your leg still bothering you?”

“Just tense still after rain.”

“Turn this way,” As you rolled over his hand found your leg and spun you to lay beside him with your hurt leg he draped across his chest starting from your ankle up, smoothing his hands over your leg up to your knee he said, “Just relax, I got it. No doubt having the knot so long it would take a bit to fully loosen. Weekly rub downs then.”

“You-,”

“If your leg hurts I’ll make it twice a week.”

“You and your family with your threats.” Sighing again you laid your head on your arms to watch the film again through his smirking massage to your leg loosening up the longer he rubbed it.

A glimpse of your toes had him smirking and saying, “You chose glitter and mint, it’s nice.”

“Thank you. Apparently we are the gossip on the news while I was there.” He sighed and you said, “according to them I am a nice fit for your clan, though they aren’t certain on if I am actually attached to it yet.”

Thorin chuckled and leaned in to kiss the bottom of your foot making you glance back at him, “Longer no announcements are made the better. Was a windfall for Dis and Vili. Besides I believe you do love a good mystery. Why not be one?”

“I do love mysteries.”

Unsure of what to say you kept looking at him making him smirk and nod at the screen, “Enjoy the film, I’ve got this. Don’t you worry, Frerin is loving winding them up and leading them around.”

“Oh yes, that made the second channel, how my bond with Thran and his clan would cause upset with yours.” Making him chuckle and smile taking in the cuddling and loving moment in aiding with easing your pain. Eventually putting you to sleep signaling his move to turn you and tuck you into bed for the night before heading off to his own.

.

It seemed to go on forever, the rug depot Thorin had brought you to, and every corner seemed to lure up gasps and stares once you were spotted only bringing Thorin to drape around you more and keep you distracted by pointing out more designs you might like. It seemed to the very end you walked finally reaching the shag section where you looked over the first two only to flinch and tightly lay your hand on Thorin’s right pec instantly splitting a grin across his face in your reaction to a worker sneaking up on you. His hand folded over yours hiding the reaction from the cheerful Dwarf who was grinning up at the selection.

“Fine choices here, all fine.” Easing your hand free Thorin lifted it to kiss your knuckles then lowered it to weave into his as the worker continued grinning at you both, “Any specifics you were looking for?”

“Um,” you replied and wet your lips holding the slip of paper with the measurements on it, “Well I know I need runners, I think that’s the term, and a smaller rectangular one for a studio.”

“Ah,” his face lit up, “Well we have a great selection to choose from. Any specific color?”

“White, I don’t think I want it like fur, but I do want it fluffy…”

“As for runners, we have those on the next rack over and if it’s a small one you need that would be closer to the corner.” First he led you to the runners and then hurried off at the sound of a bundle of rugs falling over leaving Thorin to drape around your back again.

Tenderly he kissed your cheek and hummed, “Should give us a few minutes to possibly choose while he’s gone.”

Touching a few choices you settled for a patterned one with wavy squares set into the rug for the spot outside your booth and two runners to match. Armed with a cart the helpful Dwarf returned to gather up your choices and help you to find another smaller one for inside the soundproof booth. A deep indigo one with constellations across it that glowed in the dark to add to the mix.

Fully rung up with the rugs added to the trunk of the car Thorin hummed, “I think a lunch is in order.” Guiding a strip of your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek and claim your hand to walk you to your seat. “I know just the place.”

He helped you in and out again keeping hold of your hand as long as possible. Once in the corner seat with his chair next to yours he cradled your hand in his tracing lines into your skin trailing his fingers from fingertip to wrist lovingly claiming it all he could until your drinks then meal arrived. Reluctantly releasing your hand only to struggle at not shivering when it eased back across his thigh back to your own in thanking the waiter for bringing your meal.

.

The rugs were set aside to be out of the way from the building crew and to your theater you went cuddling up again for another movie marathon. Somewhere between his fingers trailing over your arms and hands and the sound of his steady heartbeat you drifted off against his side. Hours he napped holding you close only to flinch awake to the sound of a show on elephant seals in a show leading to puffins, Kuu’s reason for turning it on, having been trying to learn more about sea birds. Grumbling in a nestle closer to his side at the shift of his arms you lured out his grin making him scoop you up and carry you to bed lowly saying, “All yours Kuu,” to the bird contently fluffing up in excitement for the next section of the show.

To bed again he carried you, making certain you were settled comfortably only to pause at your hands pulling him by the shirt to stay with you. “Alright,” he murmured and eased down to lay beside you, “Just for the adorable pout I’ll stay,” stealing a lingering kiss on your forehead once under the covers relaxing around you fully to drift off to sleep. Clinging as closely as you would allow treasuring another night with you in his arms, hoping to one day have this be a more common occurrence.

.

“We’ve got it covered,” you could hear Frerin’s voice through the house and sitting up in bed you knew why, he was on speaker with Thorin as he cooked breakfast confirming he’d be over later. Breakfast seemed to be filled with questions from the new ravens on what else you were adding to your home that they had been warned of the company coming.

Cider in hand you left the car keys on the hook and in Thorin’s turn to protest he froze at your toe top kiss to his cheek. Trotting away you said, “Sunny today, scooter weather,” adding your mug to your bag you climbed on your scooter after adding your helmet waving at the grinning Dwarf off to help a bit at the shop before heading back to meet Frerin and the builders.

It was another lazy lounging episode though this time with Durin in the recovery bed and Bunny practically locked inside the room by their friends to try and get them closer to a courtship agreement. From the shop back home again Thorin listened along and was joined by Frerin grinning in wait on the living room couch until the doorbell cut them off.

From the delivery of the shelves and booth to the builders arriving the ravens got curious more than once to see what was going on.

“Do not touch the hinges!” Thorin reminded the crew who nodded and with a stern point at the youngest of them who huffed turning over his pocket screwdriver kit favored for his mischief that Frerin held onto while they were working.

Fully impressed by the workspace the builders nodded and once armed with your sketches got to settling everything in place. The sturdy walls helped to anchor the shelves that seemed to amuse the team greatly and with each block completed Frerin and Thorin marked which colors assigned for each. Notes all greatly helping the BomBairns who showed up eagerly ready to get started while the soundproof booth was being set up. With ladders and fine brushes the shelves were brightly painted, two however got to installing the lights that Thorin had ordered and had delivered to Frerin’s place to keep it a surprise, the ones you wanted that were being scoured for cheaper copies all proving to be less effective and more of a fire hazard. Smirking to himself he watched it all come together to the sound of your show blaring over the tools and fans helping to waft out the paint smell.

Some food was fixed up for the crews before they switched rooms. Tightly Frerin gripped Thorin in a hug making the elder smirk and ask, “What are you doing?”

Two of his nieces joined in on the hugging before their brother said, “The board said you needed hugs.”

Shifting on his feet Thorin rolled his eyes seeing the raven scrawled note ‘Thorin Needs Hugs!!’ next to the runes for ‘Thorin *hearts* Jackrabbit’ with awkward hearts all around the board and he rumbled back, “So it does. Go eat, can’t have your Adad saying I didn’t feed you enough.” They chuckled heading back to the table and with the fan still going Thorin came back to inspect the booth while Frerin looked at the rugs you had chosen.

The builders had then moved onto his shelving in his room they knew just what he wanted while the teens were off again with check in hand after confirming that it was exactly as you had sketched it.

Another knock had the brothers heading for the door only to flash a grin at the tall Elf asking, “Pear, and Durin, residence?”

“Yes, it is.”

Thorin signed for the delivery hearing the man saying, “Two desks and a set of chairs.”

The square U shaped desk came first carefully hoisted on a cart over the doorframe and through the house past the fan Frerin set aside to be settled in the audio recording section. The wavy one came next and was a tad easier to move to its spot on the wall by the side of the sound booth. Rolling versions of your studio chair were settled by both desks.

The pause to admire them didn’t last long as there was another knock on the open door and when Frerin had gone to check a team of tech guys came through to set up the audio recording equipment as well as the scanners and light up sketching stand to help with your drawings. By the time you had come home for lunch you had a full audio and animation studio system installed by the tech crews who were thrilled to have gotten to meet you and give you the full tour.

Pictures and autographs later and you were standing in the studio while Frerin drug the runners into place on either side of the desks after having settled the rectangular one across from the sound booth and the glowing one inside. Peering up you said, “You even changed the lights.”

Frerin chuckled saying, “All Thorin, said you wanted to bargain hunt, wouldn’t have your work suffering for pinching pennies. More than earned them Sis.” Scooping his arm around you guiding you to the meal that Kuu ended up luring you from to spend the rest of your break going to meet the three excited hatchlings in your back yard. Each hopping up into your palms and lap granting you a full introduction and inspection of every tiny adorable unique speckle to their fluffy selves. Needing of another nap as their energy had been burned up in meeting you their grinning parents tucked around them again readying for another misty night leaving Thorin smirking as you accepted the car keys from him with his peck on your knuckles and murmur to drive safe.

.

Oddly at your mid shift lunch a call from Echo came through causing your brow to inch up in confusion. “Echo?” You asked upon answering. “Nothing’s wrong?”

“No, not in the least. Merely we wished to inquire about your in home studio.”

“Oh, it was installed earlier. Why?”

“Well we have a crew coming in to work on your floor starting tomorrow. Right in your time slot too, so we were thrilled to settle the repairs then hearing that you would be so amply equipped to handle your show at home.”

“How long will these repairs be taking?”

“Two weeks, minimum. It would be a huge favor to us, we have tried to discuss shifting the other shows to other floors and apparently there are rituals and rivalries and such.”

Giggling softly you said, “No problem, did you want me to call Mal about it?”

“No, we shall handle that, you enjoy your lunch. We will drop by and get you set up in the morning tuned in to broadcast from home.”

“Careful there, or someone might try to assume you were hoping to make this permanent.”

Lowly he chuckled, “You and I both know there is ample tale to tell on that book of yours, more than just Bunny’s side of things. Perhaps we might have special dates to let you relax by broadcasting at home. Give you some more time with your betrothed. Have you talked titles yet?”

“No, not yet, I know the media is onto it,” you replied glancing at your plate pushing a piece of chicken.

“I didn’t mean to sour your mood. Just curious Dear, take your time.”

“I’m just, I wouldn’t even know what to call him if I tried on my own. He doesn’t seem like a boyfriend,”

Again he chuckled, “You could go Partner, Significant Other always sounds a bit cold.”

“Maybe.”

“Think on it, enjoy work and your rest we shall see you in the morning. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Doubtful.”

With matching smirks you hung up and to yourself you sighed returning to eating try to think of how Mal would take to having the recording done at your home instead behind the desk instead of on the other side of a glass wall with you inside of the soundproof booth. It would be odd to say the least but you imagined Thorin might enjoy it more that you didn’t have to head out so early each day after getting only a few hours sleep. For some unaware of the protective streaks of Dwarves it might seem controlling that his family would want you home more but your friends and relatives were glad to hear that you had found yourself such a protective and considerate a mate to have been betrothed to. Yet for all his urge to keep you safe and happy at home he knew you would go stir crazy after just having gotten started in finally following an old inextinguishable dream of yours.

Pt 42

@himoverflowers​​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @sweeticedtea​​, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @here2have-fun​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shesakillerkween

x Thorin – @evyiione​, @deepestfirefun​, @queenoferebor​

Next Caller - @avaria-revallier​​

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 15 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: ! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Bang Time.  

This Chapter: It’s party time when Fame finally approves the new Spring line. Also: Trixie paints, Courtney gets a windfall, and an out of town visitor stops by.  

Reminder: Indonesian is indicated with brackets [like this.]

***

On Thursday morning, a roar sounded through Galactica, as Fame had finally approved the last of the changes to the spring collection. Trixie blasted “We Are the Champions” on repeat as he popped several bottles of champagne, serving it to everyone in everything from empty Starbucks cups to glass jars as they were finally, finally, finally free after more than three weeks of constant soul crushing hope smashing hard work.

“Trixie, it’s Alyssa for you,” Kandy told him, pointing to the phone beside him, line one flashing green.

He rolled his eyes and picked up. “Hello?”

“Sir. Please turn off that hideous straight boy noise and bring your team upstairs to join us for a real party,” Alyssa said. “We still have almost an hour before the meeting and I think a little dancing is in order.”

“Fine, fine,” Trixie laughed. “We’re coming now. But I really don’t think you can call Queen ‘straight boy noise.’”

“Whatever. Just come up!” Alyssa gave him a definitive tongue pop before hanging up the phone.

Trixie turned to his employees. “Party upstairs in marketing!”

“What about the Fashion Week meeting?” asked Blu anxiously.

“That, my dear, is a problem for our future selves.”

***

Pearl sat in her office, her legs on her desk as she folded paper planes and then threw them into her trash can, while listening to The Clash, trying to drown out the disco that was blasting from the bullpen.

Pearl didn’t respond to the knock on the door, but Trixie opened it anyway, a smile on his face.

“The Clash? Really?”

“Shut up, I’m heartbroken.” Pearl held up her hand, flipping him off before leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, turning up her music.

Trixie signed.

“You’re not heartbroken.”

“Am so.”

“Stop pouting, Pearl. You know how many girls you’ve been a dick to? So this one doesn’t want you. Well, serves you right.”

Pearl cracked an eye open, her nose crinkling into a frown.

“It does! So come on...we’re going to join the others, and you’re gonna have a couple of drinks and get over yourself. Fashion Week is coming up and we need you to be on your A game.”

Trixie held open the door, beckoning her to follow.

With a groan, Pearl begrudgingly stood up and followed Trixie out of her office.

“Shut up, I’m always on my A game.”

“As if.”

They both laughed, Trixie putting his arm around Pearl as he ushered her towards the celebration.

***

“No, you can’t go.”

“But Violeeet,” Courtney whined, laying over her desk, looking at Violet with gigantic puppy dog eyes. Everything in their office was basically shaking along to the rhythm of “It’s Raining Men” from the floor below. “Pleeease.”

“No.”

“Why do they get to party, and not us? It’s not fair!”

“Because it’s our time to work now, so be quiet and get to it, there are a tough few weeks ahead.”

Even though Violet’s words were harsh, Courtney didn’t feel cut by them; she didn’t even feel intimidated by the fact that Violet apparently didn’t think of the last two weeks as tough. She was too proud of the fact that she’d finished all of the packets for the marketing meeting--and early, too.

She closed the final folder with a flourish.

“All done!”

“Already? Good job.” Violet stood up and walked to her desk, picking up one of the folders, brow wrinkling. “Why is it so light? Did you forget one of the sections?” She opened the folder and began to look through.

“No, it’s all there! I triple-checked!” Courtney chirped happily.  

“Courtney.” Violet closed her eyes. “Did you print the meeting materials duplex?”

The way Violet spat out the word, it sounded like a slur, and Courtney was confused. It made perfect sense to her to print everything double-sided. She’d saved over two reams of paper that way.

“Well, yeah. I figured we’d save a ton of paper if-”

“Did I ask you to print duplex? Huh?” Violet demanded, slamming the folder down.

“No, but I thought-”

“Well luckily for all of us, it’s not your job to think, because you’re not very good at that, are you? It’s your job to follow instructions!”

Courtney nodded slowly, the light in her completely turned off compared to the happy, bubbly girl she had been only moments before.

“I’m sorry, Violet. I’ll redo them.” Courtney picked up the master documents again, biting her lip.  

Violet instantly felt bad, like she had kicked a puppy.

“You know what? It’s fine. Maybe no one will notice,” Violet sighed. “Why don’t you go join the party while I prepare the boardroom for the Fashion Week meeting?”

Courtney lit up, the smile reappearing on her face.

“Really?! But you just said-”

“Yes really, now go before I change my mind. Have fun. You have 30 minutes.”

“Thank you!”

***

Pearl was in a horrible mood. The boardroom was filled to the brim with people from every department. There were even a few interns squeezed around the perimeter of the conference table, and it made the room cramped and uncomfortable to be in.

Pearl had been fuming on the inside since last Sunday where Violet had closed her door right in her face. No one had ever done anything like that to Pearl, and what was worse, she didn’t even know why.

Violet was tripping around the edge of the boardroom, clearly anxious since she had little to no control of the situation. Normally everything would have been perfectly crisp, neat and organized which were not the words anyone could use to describe the situation they were in now. Pearl smiled, satisfied, to herself when she could see Violet practically scream on the inside when Kim Chi dropped part of her meatball sub on the table, using her meeting agenda to wipe the sauce away.

Pearl leaned back in her chair, everything suddenly a lot less irritating now that Violet was officially losing it.

***

“Alyssa, I want invites sent out as soon as possible, you can borrow Laganja to get it done. Trixie, I know you have worked incredibly hard but I need you through the home stretch. Prepare a backstage team for Fashion Week, I want everything double and triple checked. Pearl, find every contact you can and make them aware of our show. Violet confirmed the location yesterday and has found a garden team that can hopefully transform our venue into the tropical jungle we wanted. Ivy, I expect you to run the style department for the next few days while we rebook our models, and yes Trixie, we will try to stay close to your vision. Raja is pulling in favors right now and we hope we can get everything confirmed Monday. You’re dismissed. Oh, and Kim, please clean up after yourself before you leave.”

***

Trixie stepped out of his taxi, looking around as he put his wallet into his fanny pack, then feeling guilty about it. Katya swore up and down that the Bronx neighborhood where she taught was perfectly safe, but he always found himself a little nervous there regardless. Nothing could ruin his mood today though, he was finally free after weeks of constant sewing, of spending countless hours in the fabric district looking for just the right shade, to endless phone calls with their suppliers, tailors and the long discussions with the botanist at The Royal Botanic Garden in Kew in England trying to get a hold of Marianna Norths original drawings.

He went through the side gate into the playground, heading for Katya’s classroom when he spotted her. She was on the east side of the schoolyard, her blonde hair collected in a high ponytail, her feet in wellies and a pair of overalls on, painting the wall in front of her. Right now Katya was working on a giant sun, so her hands, clothes and hair were covered in yellow and orange shades of paint.

“Hey Miss! I don’t have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?”

“What?!”

Katya turned around, hands on her hips, trying to cover up a clearly amused expression with her most serious Scolding Teacher face, until she realized that it was Trixie who had called to her.

“Sugarbutt!!” Katya ran over to Trixie, her shoes making a whoosh sound with each step before she jumped into Trixie’s arms, covering the both of them in paint. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re finally finished with the collection, so I came to see you.”

Trixie laughed as Katya clung to him like a tiny koala cub, the two of them enjoying being in each other’s company again after way too long without actually seeing each other.

“What are you up to here?” Trixie smiled, looking up at Katya, kissing her nose and the paint there.

“I’m painting! Look!” Katya wiggled until Trixie put her down. She pointed to the wall of the building, which was half gray concrete and half an explosion of color.

“I’m painting the ocean.” Katya smiled brightly. “This will be the coral reef and over here is the sunken ship with the scaaaarry ghosts and then way over there.” Katya pointed, “I’ll make Atlantis with all different kinds of mermaids!”

Trixie looked around, the wall was truly gigantic, his own smile matching Katya’s. “So you finally got the budget?”

“Well, not exactly.” Katya had grabbed her paintbrush again, continuing on the sun. She’d been lobbying her principal for the last year to get funding to decorate the courtyard where the youngest students spend their breaks.

“What do you mean not exactly?”

“We didn’t have the funds to buy the paint or hire a painter, so now I’m doing it myself!”

“Katya, are you committing vandalism on your own school?!”

“No, no of course not!” Katya held up her hands. “ I made a deal with the principal. I pay for the materials and do the painting myself.”

“And what’s his side of the deal? What do you get?”

“Um...a pretty wall for the kids?” Katya smiled, clearly unbothered by the free labor she was doing if it would brighten her students’ day.

“Well, in that case...” Trixie smiled, picking up one of the brushes. “What part do you want me to work on?”

“We need a colony of clown fishes over there.”

“Colony of clown fishes coming right up Ms. Zamolodchikova!” Trixie did a mock salute, immediately starting to fill out the sketches that Katya had done.

“Hey Trixie...”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

Courtney was sitting at her computer, absentmindedly checking Facebook and drinking a coconut water, enjoying the rare peace and quiet even though she knew she should be working; Violet had given her a spreadsheet with a massive list of names to confirm for Fashion Week, and she was only a third of the way through.

But on the other hand, Violet was out of the office, taking a trip to the tailors for Fame, who was at a charity function with Patrick, so the office was completely quiet. And there was no harm in a tiny break, right?

The door opened and Courtney jumped, quickly minimizing Safari and pulling up the Fashion Week Spreadsheet, pretending to be working.

“Hey Courtney.” Ivy smiled, the other’s teal shirt making her red hair look stunning.

Courtney breathed a sigh of relief that it was just her, even though she’d never been fully at ease with Ivy. She had just never met anyone else who was as genuinely sweet and upbeat as the girl who was standing in front of her.

“Hey Ivy!” Courtney smiled as soon as she got herself under control. “What’s up? Fame isn’t here right now, and neither is Violet…”

“Oh, I know.”

“You do?” Courtney wrinkled her brow, looking at the overflowing shopping bags Ivy had placed on her desk. “Then what’s all of this? Are they for Fame? Should I store them here?”

“No Courtney,” Ivy laughed, pushing the bags towards Courtney. “They’re for you.”

“Really?!” Courtney looked into the bags and squealed happily. “Ivy… These are… These are real designer things!”

“I cleaned out the Warehouse, and most of this is too out of date to use for the website or shoots, so you’re welcome to take whatever you want.” Ivy smiled at Courtney’s enthusiasm, not telling her that the bags in front of her were mostly filled with the clothes that no one else wanted. But Ivy knew that Courtney would appreciate it--she’d seen the young assistant repeat articles of clothing enough times to know that her closet was nowhere near as full as most of their coworkers.

Courtney grabbed a purse. “Oh my god! This is Marc Jacobs! And what are these? Banana Republic pants!” Courtney smiled, her enthusiasm making Ivy laugh while Courtney emptied out all of the bags, acting like a kid on Christmas as she clapped her hands in happiness over the Stuart Weitzmen shoes and Badgley Mischka dresses. And best of all, loads of Galactica pieces that she would never have been able to afford on her own. Finally, she’d be able to really fit in--and toss the tired black pencil skirt from Target that she’d worn about 4 times over the past few weeks.

Courtney looked up at Ivy, tears in her eyes.

“Thank you… Seriously… Thank you so so much Ivy.”

“Don’t mention it, we girls gotta look out for each other.”

***

SUTAN: Hey. Are you there?

VIOLET: Yes, why?

Sutan smiled and leaned back into his chair. It was a little after eight, and Sutan was pretty sure he was the only person left in the office, not that he minded. His days often going by in a blur of everyone and their mother needing something, so it was nice to have the place to himself, giving him time to think.

SUTAN: Dinner at Annisa tomorrow?

VIOLET: Can’t. Busy.

Sutan wrinkled his brow. Busy? He stood up, getting a cigarette from his drawer before he opened the window, leaning out of it as he returned to his phone.

SUTAN: How hard is Fame riding you over there if you can’t go out?

VIOLET: I think the question is how you’re not busy, Fashion Week is in 10 days?

Sutan snorted. Fashion week was indeed in 10 days, as if anyone would let him forget it.

VIOLET: I want to have time. I promise.

***

“To Karl!”

Fame laughed, the sounds of the groups glass clinking together filling the bar, Karl was smiling brightly as they toasted the man clearly enjoying the fact that he was the center of attention for the night, everyone treating him like a wayward son, even though he had been in New York two weeks earlier.

“So, what’s new in London?” Raja smiled, easily falling into conversation with Karl, who adored entertaining.

Fame loved drinks night with her friends. When they were in their twenties they had met up several times a week, but by now it was a miracle if she could get all of them together once a month for a weeknight cocktail or two.

Juju and Detox hadn’t been able to make it, but with a teenager and twins toddlers, they were somewhat excused.

Fame took a sip of her drink, allowing herself to just sink back and fully enjoy the sounds and laughs of her favorite people talking and laughing together, the sounds of her husband’s chuckle next to her feeling like a warm blanket as she leaned against his side.

“So is no one else going to point out what’s going on with Sutan?” Bianca asked.

Everyone turned their attention to Sutan, who looked up from his phone, a smile quickly fading from his face.

“What?”

“Why do you look like that?” Bianca smiled, the woman clearly beyond entertained as she leaned on her hand, her finger twirling on the stem of her wine glass.

“Look like what?” Sutan put his phone down, and it didn’t escape Fame’s notice that he made sure to flip his screen to the table. Maybe he did actually have something to hide.

“I don’t know, weird,” Bianca said.

“I don't look weird, you look weird,” Sutan retorted childishly, which made Bianca cackle and attempt to kick him under the table.

“She's right,” Raja said, head tilted. “You do look weird. You're all…”

“Smiley?” asked Karl, taking a handful of peanuts from the table.

“Yes! That's it! It's creepy,” said Bianca.

“My smile is not creepy!” Sutan groaned. “Why are we even talking about me?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Karl smiled, which earned him a squeeze on his arm from Sutan.

“Thanks, Karl.”

“It is a little bit creepy,” Raven chimed in.

Fame giggled.

“See?” asked Bianca. “Even Raven agrees, and we all know her favorite pastime is arguing with me.”

Raven threw her hair over her shoulder, and Fame was very pleasantly surprised that she wasn’t going to argue that point. Bianca and Raven were almost always throwing insults at each other, and while it was entertaining most of the time, it also got very draining in the long run.

"Raven, remember that I'm your boss.”

"Manager," she corrected.

"Boss. Now pack up the attitude." Sutan folded his arms, feigning seriousness, but a hint of his dopey smile remained.

Fame leaned forward, telling him, “I think your smile is beautiful, Tan.”

“Thank you!”

“Yikes,” Raven muttered, making Bianca snicker.  

“You know what, it is beautiful! Fuck all the rest of you, except you Karl, you can stay.”

“Thanks man.” Karl gave Sutan’s cheek a kiss, which made him roll his eyes and growl.

“See, now you look normal,” Bianca declared, gesturing to his now sullen pout, no one noticing the flash of hurt on Karl’s face.

***

[So.] Sutan almost wanted to sigh at the sound of his sister’s voice, Raja sliding in next to him at the bar. [What’s going on with you?]

Raja was stunning in her black jumpsuit with a green top underneath, heavy golden jewelry on her arms, her long hair styled with tiny braids that made her look like a warrior goddess.

[Nothing is going on.] Sutan picked up his beer, hoping that his sister would leave him alone, but he was never that lucky.

[Please.] Raja smiled. [You’ve never been able to lie to me, Tantan.]

[I don’t know what you’re talking about.]

[You’re seeing someone.]

[Wha-] Sutan groaned, realizing that the battle was probably lost for good. He sat down, and Raja took a seat next to him, his sister flagging the bartender for a drink. [How did you know?]

[Are you asking me that?] Raja raised an eyebrow. [I know you, brother dear. The smiles, the texting, the fact that you suddenly couldn’t make dinner last week-]

[I told Raven at work-] Sutan guessed that he had technically told Raven in passing, but what was a sister in law worth if he couldn’t send messages along.

[So who is she?] Raja smiled.

Sutan opened his mouth to explain Violet, the ever mysterious, beautiful weird new girl in his life, but then realized he couldn’t. And further, he didn’t want to. He was enjoying having her all to himself right now, and not terribly anxious to break the spell.

[Let me keep this one.]

Raja raised an eyebrow. [So it’s serious?]

Sutan shrugged, and Raja kissed his cheek.

[I love you,] she said. [Even when you’re pretending to be mysterious.]

Sutan smiled.

[I love you too.]