#And the whole time the blackboard behind him looked completely green to my eyes and I was like uh! Something is wrong!

[kyouka-supremacy]

Why is it always “dazai is not a canon sexist nor he objectify women cope” in my inbox and never “hey do you want to discuss what the inherent morality of man is like till we both pass out discussing the inherent morality of man is fun”

[letssingintherain]

empty dreams ➵ d.m.

you accidentally slip in draco’s bed instead of your boyfriend’s for some cuddles. 

pairing: draco malfoy x y/n (slytherin) x blaise zabini 

summary: draco has had a soft spot for you since year 3 but has to conceal it because his best mate starts dating you. it becomes harder to deal with after a heart-fluttering instance, making draco’s life quite a bit more miserable. 

contains: 3.5k words of angst and draco being a simp. NO cheating!! set in year 6 with no voldy. :)

song recs: dancing on my own - calum scott, hold me while you wait - lewis capaldi, somebody else - the 1975 (i listened to these songs and a few others for inspo)

Draco was terribly in love with his best mate’s girlfriend and it irritated him to no end. 

The infatuation started long before Blaise asked Y/N out, and to be honest, Draco had no clue exactly when it started. All he knew was that during his third year he began taking notice of the way your eyes sparkled with mirth, the way your hair caught the sunlight, the way your dimples lingered on your face after hearing a witty remark, and the way you showed selfless concern for everyone without being afraid to speak your mind. After that, he found it hard to focus on anything else but the beat of his pounding heart when you were talking to him. 

Draco never made a move because he was scared of losing your friendship. Y/N, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Daphne, Theodore, along with Crabbe and Goyle were the most tight-knit friend group in Slytherin. So it was easy for Draco to use the excuse of “keeping the friend group intact” and avoid ever confronting his feelings about you. Unfortunately for Draco, Blaise didn’t share the same sentiment and asked Y/N on a date to Hogsmeade a few weeks ago.  

~

You were chattering with Daphne and Pansy in the common room about the absurdity of the latest “Quibbler” when you heard someone approach you three. 

“Hey ladies, mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment?” Blaise flashed a charismatic smile at the trio and extended his arm to Y/N. You glance at the girls in surprise before taking Blaise’s hand. 

“No, not at all!” Daphne and Pansy share knowing looks while giggling. 

Feeling quite out of the loop, you follow Blaise outside of the common room, not sure what to expect. 

He gently let go of your hand once you two reached an empty hallway. Blaise turned around to face you and took a deep breath. 

“So I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now..I find you very attractive,” He said these words slowly while observing your reaction. “I’d love to get to know you more and take you on a date to Hogsmeade, if you’re okay with that?” 

Your were shocked by his proposal because you had never imagined Blaise Zabini to have feelings for you. You knew how many girls would wait nervously outside his classes hoping to catch a glimpse of him. You and your friends would even roll your eyes at the sight and tease Blaise about having a “fan club”. 

After getting over the shock, you looked at Blaise and thought about his words seriously. “Blaise is really attractive,” you noted the way his jumper with rolled up sleeves perfectly fit his body. “And I do always have a good time with him,” you added on after thinking of his sly humor and good-natured personality. 

“I’d be honored.”

~

Draco winced at the memory of the start of you and Blaise’s relationship. He worried that Blaise would follow his old pattern of dating girls just to dump them a few weeks later, but everyone else in the group assured him that he was overthinking. He had congratulated Blaise with a forced smile and a pat on the back while fuming inside. He couldn’t exactly blame Blaise though, it’s not like he confided to Blaise about his crush on you. 

Which is the reason why Draco is currently doing his best to remain focused on Professor Snape’s drawling voice and not look at you whispering to Blaise from the corner of his eyes. 

Blaise looked as charming as ever in his signature look—a dark green jumper with rolled up sleeves over a collared shirt, with his Slytherin tie poking out slightly. You looked like a princess with your flowing [y/h/c] hair and the green headband nestled snugly on the top of your head. You ditched the jumper and were just wearing a collared shirt with a Slytherin tie along with the normal green plaid skirt and knee-high socks. 

The sight of you two looking so attractive together made Draco feel cold and glum inside. And it didn’t help that the classroom was actually chilly and gloomy.

“You’d think they’d be able to at least afford some bloody heat lamps in this place, but I guess not.” Draco mumbled to himself in annoyance while blowing on his hands and rubbing them together. He was wearing the normal Slytherin uniform complete with a long cloak, but with a few special touches that displayed his status. He had a small snake enamel pinned on his tie that complimented the snake signet ring he always kept on his right ring finger. 

Most of the students at least made the effort to seem like they were focused on the greasy-haired professor, unlike you and Blaise. Snape finally noticed this and focused his eyes on you two. 

“Today we will be attempting to make the Elixir of Euphoria to practice for your NEWT level exams. It is a highly advanced potion so I suggest all of you give it your full attention.” Snape waved his cloak dramatically and glared at Y/N and Blaise. 

“I am talking about you two, Miss. Y/L/N and Mr. Zabini. Or is whatever you’re so feverishly discussing more urgent?” Snape’s comment earned a scoff from Draco while the whole class looked back at the couple. 

“No, professor. Sorry.” You and Blaise grinned sheepishly and moved slightly apart, eyes gleaming when you exchanged glances. 

It physically pained Draco to see you two act so close. He wished that he could be the one to bring a smile to your face, to shower you with affection, and to spoil you endlessly with his wealth. And he wished you could be his person to comfort him when he felt down, to run your hands through his silky platinum hair, and to assure him that he was enough and everything was okay. 

But these were all delusions, and all he could presently do was sulk and twirl his ring while he fixed his gaze to the front of the room. 

Snape huffed and turned around to stand behind his desk. He tapped his cauldron two times with his wand, filling it up with a glowing yellow substance that resembled sunlight. 

“Your instructions are on the board along with some tips, and your ingredient list is in your textbook.” Snape flicked his wand at the blackboard, revealing intricate steps in tiny font that filled up the entire board. The class groaned at the sight and reluctantly opened their dusty books. 

Daphne worked with Pansy, Crabbe paired up with Goyle, and of course you partnered up with Blaise, which left Theodore unlucky enough to face Draco’s wrath. 

Theodore slipped in the seat beside Draco and slapped him on his shoulder.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing, because I bloody well don’t.” Theodore chuckled, hands crossed behind his head while leaning back in the chair. 

“Of course you don’t. Just try not to get in the way, yeah?” Draco snapped impatiently and squinted to read the board. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” Theodore dismissed Draco’s attitude for his usual cynicism. He absentmindedly looked around in the classroom, eventually spotting you and Blaise. 

“Oi, Y/N and Blaise are snogging!” He pointed out, entertained by the sight of some of his closest friends kissing. 

Draco smashed the shrivelfig to a fine powder before realizing that he meant to only chop it. He cursed under his breath and reached for a new one. 

Theodore noticed Draco’s strange temper and remarked, “What’d the shrivelfig do to you, mate?” Draco glared at him, causing Theodore to raise his hands in defeat and back away from the cutting board. 

Draco couldn’t resist peeking at you two and immediately regretted it after he confirmed you two were indeed getting cozy. He sneered in distaste before feeling his heart ache painfully. Draco tried to ignore the ache as best as he could and resolved to focus on his potion. 

...

“Let’s see if any of you possess the talent of a potion-brewer.” 

Potions class was finally coming to an end, and Snape wandered around to check everyone’s results. Only a few cauldrons resembled the desired bright yellow color and Draco’s was sadly not one of them. Draco and Theodore stared at their dark orange concoction while exchanging grimaces. 

“You may try a sip of your elixir. It should induce silly giggles and an overall mood-boost.” Snape observed you and Blaise’s sunshine-yellow potion, showing silent signs of approval as he glided away. 

Draco scowled at the sight and downed a whole bottle of his own potion out of pure spite. After a few moments of regret and apprehension, his nose started to bleed profusely. 

“Ahh, what’d you do that for?” Theodore hastily handed a towel to Draco, who groaned and leaned his head back to slow down the flow. 

“Nothin’...thought it’d be safe.” Draco’s voice became nasally due to the blood spouting from his nose. 

“Mr. Malfoy, please see Madam Pomfrey before you bleed out in my class.” Snape glanced down at Theodore and Draco, tilting his head at the door. 

“Yes, sir.” Draco muttered while covering his nose with a towel, passing by you and Blaise on the way out. 

“Hey, Draco’s got a bloody nose!” Blaise pointed out in amusement while you giggle next to him. Normally Draco would respond with a witty jab, but he really wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

“Shove off, Blaise,” Draco spat in a hostile manner, feeling ashamed at his disposition. He proceeded to hurriedly exit the room, leaving you and Blaise confused.  

“Maybe his elixir had the opposite effect?” Blaise shrugged it off. 

...

It was night-time and Draco had visited Madam Pomfrey’s three times to no avail. 

“I’ve told you this already but I’ll repeat myself once more, Mr. Malfoy. You’re just going to have to let it bleed out by itself.” She passed him several blood-replenishing potions to drink over the course of the night. 

“What’s the use of a healer if they advise you to bleed out?” Draco thought in annoyance before accepting the potions. 

Blaise offered Draco to switch beds to be closer to the bathroom, in case he were to keep bleeding throughout the night. Draco accepted begrudgingly, annoyed at how his feelings for you made it difficult for him to fully appreciate Blaise’s kind actions. 

Though he knew it wasn’t Blaise’s fault, Draco couldn’t help but be bitter towards his best mate.

“It must be the jealousy,” Draco admitted sullenly while laying on Blaise’s bed, observing how he was facing the windows of the Black Lake instead of his usual position of lying next to them. 

The lake lapped at the windows soothingly, giving the dorm room a dappled green glow. The room had several mahogany four-poster beds and was decorated lavishly thanks to the generous donations by Slytherin alumni. Draco was the only one in the room so it was filled with a peaceful silence that implored sleep.  

Draco’s sleepy haze caused his mind to unconsciously drift to images of you and Blaise. How you two would hold hands while walking to class, jokingly feed each other food in the Great Hall, and even kiss during Potions. He irritatedly turned over, forcing himself to focus on anything else. 

After listening to to the waves of the lake for a few more minutes, he couldn’t help but give in to the pull of sleep. 

“Stop it!” Y/N flustered and pushed his chest. “It’s a common mistake.” 

Draco chuckled and held your wrist. He pulled you closer to him and took advantage of his towering height over you by tilting your chin up. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I found it quite endearing.” He smirked at the blush in your cheeks. He reached down to wrap his hands over your waist, feeling your hards cross over his neck. 

Draco indulged in the smell of your hair, taking in the clean notes of your perfume. He hugged you tighter, not wanting to pull apart. 

Draco was waken up from his dream by the sound of a yelp and opened his eyes groggily. To his surprise, he met the [y/e/c] eyes of Y/N, who seemed even more taken aback than him. 

Draco immediately backed away, bewildered at how this happened. 

“Draco! Why are you in Blaise’s bed?” Your eyes were wide open and Draco inappropriately noted how they were even more beautiful close up. You slid off the bed before turning around to face Draco with your arms crossed. You were still clad in your normal uniform while he was in a loose white tee and gray sweatpants. 

“He switched with me so I can get to the bathroom quicker because my nose keeps bleeding.” After saying this, he felt blood rush to his head that was undoubtedly about to come out of his nose. Draco sat up on the bed, feigning ease in the hope that it was an illusion. 

“Why’d you pull me closer then?” You asked curiously, embarrassed that you accidentally climbed in bed with the platinum blonde boy. 

“I don’t know, it was a dream, Y/N! Why would I push someone away in a dream?” Draco threw his hands up exasperatedly, also embarrassed that he unknowingly cuddled you. 

You felt your lips curve upward, finding the situation humorous. Draco saw this and started grinning too. To his horror, blood began spurting out of his nose, making him rush to the bathroom. Y/N followed him closely, both worried and curious at his infliction. 

After reaching the sink and letting the blood out, Draco exhaled in relief. He turned to his side and looked into your eyes, suddenly resisting the urge to laugh. You looked so cute looking up at him with wide-eyed concern. You meet his eyes with a grin and you two finally laughed freely at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

“I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable, Y/N. I’ll be more careful next time I switch beds with Blaise.” Draco teased while playfully nudging your shoulder. 

You shifted your weight on your feet and shook your head, “No, it was my fault too. I should’ve checked the hair color before getting in bed.” You reached up to ruffle Draco’s fluffy white-blonde hair amusedly. 

Draco felt his heart involuntarily skip a beat at the sudden contact and shifted away from Y/N. He cursed himself internally for showing signs of his infatuation and couldn’t bring himself to make a response. 

“Um...You wouldn’t happen to know where Blaise is right?” Y/N broke the silence, perplexed at the sudden awkwardness. 

Draco tensed at the mention of Blaise. 

“No.” He replied coldly before walking back into the room without making eye contact with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, deliberately gazing towards the windows of the lake and nowhere else. 

You were puzzled at the sudden coldness but didn’t dwell on it, assuming he was moody because of his pesky predicament. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go find him.” You tentatively walked to the door of the dorm. “Feel better, Draco!” You gave him a small smile before leaving the room and closing the door with a soft click.  

Draco waved slightly, not wanting to reveal any more emotions. After making sure you had left, he threw himself on the bed frustratedly. It didn’t help his obsession that he felt the emptiness of the bed more clearly now. It also didn’t help that he has a memory of your eyes close up. It definitely didn’t help that he remembered the scent of your perfume. 

He sighed before turning over, silently vowing to let go of his feelings for you, both for his sake and Blaise’s. His vows were greeted by the silence of the dorm, quiet except for the gentle lapping of the lake. 

He didn’t think it was possible, but the ache in his heart grew. 

“It’s got to get worse before it gets better, right?” Draco sighed once more, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

...

Months go by, and Draco was proud at how he successfully suppressed his feelings. You no longer took up the majority of his thoughts and he could finally return to being his snarky self with Blaise. 

Draco hung out with the group as if nothing was wrong, and no one seemed to notice anything different. The group maintained the old dynamic of sarcasm and witty humor, reflecting Draco’s wish of “keeping the friend group intact”. 

He was strolling around with his buddies in his usual air of haughtiness when he noticed Pansy and Daphne quietly whispering about you in the corner of a hallway. 

“...Can’t believe Blaise said that..Poor Y/N...” They sighed, clearly worried about what happened to you.  

Draco’s felt a familiar tightening in his heart he thought he got rid of. He ditched his other friends and walked towards the two, apprehensive to learn about what happened.  

“What’d he do?” Draco demanded, his imperative demeanor taking Pansy and Daphne by surprise. 

“I’m not sure if she’d want us to tell anyone yet.” Daphne hesitated, unsure of what to say. 

When Draco realized they weren’t going to give up any clues he scowled and strode off, deciding to ask you himself. 

He walked briskly in the stone hallways of the castle, thinking of places you could be. He knew you loved the stars, but it was still bright outside, so there was no reason for you to be in the Astronomy Tower. He knew you loved the serene setting of the Black Lake, but it was bound to be infested with underclassmen on a sunny day like this, which you wouldn’t like. He realized you must be in the garden, recalling the way you always looked at the flowers in adoration.

He picked up his pace and walked swiftly in the direction of the garden. His thoughts made him restless on the way there, “What could Blaise have done?” 

He added another thought hastily, “What can I do without crossing a line?” 

He spotted you in the garden before he figured out the answer to his question. 

Draco watched as you sat on a stone ledge directly facing the wisteria flowers. The flowers were not yet in full bloom, so the tree was scattered unevenly with buds and flowers. You distractedly dangled your legs in the air and flourished your wand to enchant flower buds to grow towards you. Your eyes were glossy and your face was tear-stained, but Draco thought he had never seen you look more ethereal. 

He reached you in time to see your charm work too ambitiously, making the flowers blossom and wilt in mere seconds. You started to break into tears, hugging your body close. Draco slowly approached you, but you were too busy crying to notice. 

“Hey.” Draco said hesitantly. 

“Oh! Hi, Draco.” You wiped your eyes furiously and looked up at him. You gave a tiny smile that looked more like a grimace. 

The sight of you being so sad made Draco miserable as well, feeling the tug at his heartstrings. 

“What happened?” Draco asked in an empathetic tone and took a seat next to you on the ledge, making sure to give you ample space. 

“Blaise..broke up with me. He said he just wants to be friends. How could he say that after months?” You said bitterly, tears sliding down your face.

Draco noticed the drops of water gliding down your face and had to use all his willpower to refrain from wiping away your tears. He hated that a guy made you feel like this, especially because it was his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Draco awkwardly reached out to rub your shoulder in soft circles. 

You leaned against his hand on your shoulder, sniffling quietly. 

You two stay like this for a while, before Y/N scooted closer to Draco, burying your head in his chest and clutching his white dress shirt while emitting muffled sobs. 

Draco’s heart broke at the sight, holding you closer to comfort you. He secretly cursed Blaise out before feeling guilty. He felt like an accomplice as he watched you let your pain out. 

How did he let you get hurt? 

You cried some more before looking up at Draco with teary eyes. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.” You smiled in an embarrassed manner and moved away from him. He noticed how your lashes were slick with tears and how your nose and cheeks were rosy from crying. He felt his heart rate quicken after glancing at your swollen lips, and quickly averted his eyes before blushing slightly. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. You two look at the wisteria trees, feeling the breeze flow through both of your hair. Draco understood why you liked this spot, it was quiet and came with a stunning view of the trees and flowers. It was a beautiful day out, sunny with some clouds floating lazily. You both bask in comfortable silence. 

“I just feel...hollow? Like I'm missing a part of myself,” You confessed eventually, wearily twisting around to look at Draco.  

He nodded knowingly, very familiar with the empty feeling you were describing. He turned to make eye contact with your wounded eyes, feeling just as much heartbreak and pain as you did. 

Even though Draco hated seeing you with Blaise, he couldn’t help but feel like he hated seeing you heartbroken even more. 

a/n: this is the first fic i’ve ever written, so i feel quite nervous publishing it. if you read this far, i appreciate you so so much <33. i’m thinking of writing a sequel to this with more fluff and possibly more focus on y/n’s perspective, so let me know your thoughts! :) 

edit!: hi lovelies, i’ve decided to write more parts to this fic! thanks for all the love and lmk if you want to be tagged <3    [read pt.2 here]

(also, i know slughorn should be the potions professor during their sixth year but i just felt like snape fit the story a bit more!)

-k.z.

[sirisuorionblack]

Hey lmao how are you? I was wondering if I could have a Draco x Fem!Reader where someone is having a party on the lake of Hogwarts and the reader usually is really sassy and energetic, but she's really scared of water and doesn't know how to swim?

Best friend

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Summary - Hufflepuffs, the kindest of all four houses, has hosted a lake-side party for all the houses and the beautiful result out of it is understanding of friendship and perhaps love.

Warnings - Speak of trauma, near-drowning experience (like once) and fear of water. Cursing. And lmk if anything else!

A/N Hello!! I am great. Hope you are having a good day/night! I really hope I stuck to the description of the reader cause I am not sassy and energetic so...the reader wasn't much of those. Anyways, have a happy read!

"Did you know?” Your friend, fretted as she sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast, “the Hufflepuffs are hosting a “party“ near the black lake. It’s going to be like a day where you just “enjoy“ and do things near the lake? Whole Hogwarts is invited,”

“What is up with you and your finger quotes?” You chuckled, taking a sip of your pumpkin juice.

She rolled her eyes, “Just- are we going?”

“Do you want to go?” You asked her back.

“I mean,” she shrugged and frowned, “If you are going,”

You giggled shaking your head, “Even a frog is more decisive than you,”

”I am not being indecisive, I just have a tough time weighing the pros and cons,” she said and blushed as you burst out laughing, “Oh, shut it,”

“I can’t,” You said among your giggles.

She rolled her eyes and tugged you by the arm, “We are getting late for class, come on. Stand up, you twat!”

You stumbled to your feet and allowed her arm to link around yours. “Now, tell me - are we going?”

“You said the whole Hogwarts is gonna be there,” you said, looking at her pointedly.

She rolled her eyes and slapped your arm, “You know that was an over-exaggeration,”

”Who all are gonna be there?” You asked, “Answer honestly without exaggeration,”

”Fifth year and above in all houses,” She mumbled, monotonously.

“Alright then, you reckon we can go?” you asked again.

“Oh, I don’t know, you say!”

“Fine, fine. Merlin, calm down,” The two of you reached the Potions classroom and took your seat on the opposite ends of the classroom. You, next to Malfoy and your best friend next to Potter.

Draco moved his textbooks that were scattered across your shared table to his side, giving you some space. He then proceeded to lean against his arm and idly flip the pages of his textbook, completely ignoring your presence.

You took a seat next to him. Looking around the classroom you realised, Professor Slughorn was nowhere to be found, “Where is Slughorn?” you asked him.

He shrugged, “How would I know?”

“Right, my bad,” You said through gritted teeth, turning to face the empty blackboard the thought of the party your friend had mentioned surfaced your thoughts. You masked the scare for water as hatred. The trauma those had given you were a bewildering amount, the near-drowning situation you had been in was not something you would like to experience again. The mere thought of water made you shiver in fright and consequently, you had never learnt swimming.

But you had to think of your best friend, she was a lover of water - lake, sea, beach, all of them - and the black lake was her comfort spot and a party right by it was a gift to her and the all houses thing was something she could condemn as heaven.

Letting out a deep breath, you tore a tiny piece of parchment and roughly scribbled ‘Should we attend the party?’ and hissed for Draco’s attention.

Rolling his eyes, he turned to look at you, “What do you want?”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from saying anything, “Can you pass this to the girl sitting next to Potter?”

He looked around to spot Harry and after finding he whipped his head to look at you, “You want me to pass a tiny little note to someone across the class?!”

“Use your brain, Malfoy, just pass it, you know,” you motioned with your hand.

He glared at you with a clenched jaw but did it nonetheless. He whispered in a hushed voice to the next girl and you watched as the note reached your friend, who narrowed her eyes at you and then determinedly scribbled something.

She took out her wand and levitated the note to reach you. Draco, who watched the scene intently with crossed arms, scoffed.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” you mumbled, unfolding the note that read We are going and that’s final!

You grimaced, oh shit.

“What are you gonna wear!?” Your friend yelled as she burst into your dorm, startling you.

“Merlin’s underpants!” you yell, clutching your chest and taking deep breaths.

“That’s a weird one to wear,” she scrunched her nose in disgust, “Now tell me what are you gonna wear?”

Fetching the book you were reading that laid open at the foot of your bed, you said, “Is wearing a hoodie a choice?”

“No,” she said, sternly.

You grinned at her, “I am wearing that. Especially that black hoodie with the skull design,”

“I don’t even know why you like it,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, pushing your legs.

“Because it suits my aesthetic,” you said, flipping your messy hair dramatically.

She scoffed, “You are like a golden retriever that’s high,”

You blinked twice, “I love how you are trying to tell I am cute without telling I am cute but no,”

She rolled her eyes, “I will get you a dress,”

Two days later, your friend never showed you the dress, always smiling cheekily and shaking her head saying “it’s a surprise”. On the day of the party, she rushed to you, with a bag behind her back. She ushered you to stand in front of the floor-length mirror and asked you to close your eyes.

“I trusted your fashion sense so that dress better not be looking weird,” you said, your eyes still closed as you heard some ruffling behind you.

“Open your eyes,�� she gushed. You chuckled when you saw the excitement in her eyes as your turned around.

You gasped, “that is so beautiful,” you breathed taking the dress in your hands. It was of a soft yellow colour dress, reaching till shins with floral print all over the dress. It was casual yet so beautiful.

“I know right!” you squealed, “put it on,”

After an hour or so you found yourself walking to the black lake and you had to chuckle as you found the overly energetic teens littered across the area, cups of juices in their hands, some in their swimsuit, some wearing casual cotton clothes such as yourself. 

Your eyes fell on a certain Slytherin, hanging out with his group. Draco had dark green shorts on, a white tee that hung loosely on his body. He wove his fingers into the platinum blonde hair that fell in strands with a wide grin on his face.

“The love of your life,” she said, smirking.

“Enough of watching your prince charming,” your best friend said, tugging on your arm.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, my knight in shining armour,”

“Ever heard of something named sarcasm?”

“You ever heard of something named teasing?”

“Yes, and I do not claim to like it much,”

She rolled her eyes.

By the end of the evening, the students were slowly disappearing, the mass of the students at the time of the raging party was completely dissipated with just a few older students standing next to the lake, or sitting against the bark of trees. You, yourself were leaning against one of the trees, the energy you had at the beginning all gone with the laughter and fear. Almost everyone who attended the party jumped into the lake at least once, playing around, splashing water on each other and swimming but you hadn’t even gone near the lake, rather reserved to the ground and entertaining the students who either refused to go in or those who already did.

“Hey,” You heard someone say. Draco sat down next, “Where is your best friend?”

“Somewhere in that mass,” you motioned collectively to one side.

He chuckled, “Ditched you?”

“Excuse you, Malfoy, but not all the best friends are the same,” you said, smirking at him.

He looked at you, an impressed expression on his face and chuckled, shaking his head, “Maybe,”

“Your not wrong,” he stated simply.

You breathed in relief, “You know for a minute I thought you would get that wrong,”

He ran a hand through his hair. This was totally unlike the Draco Malfoy that was usually seen, he looked different like he enjoyed himself instead of the ever stoic he and you found this side of him endearing. You find all of his sides endearing. A voice said, loudly.

“What?” you asked, confused and slightly scared.

“You know, about that best friends. Not all of them are same, indeed,” he said, looking at you by the corner of his eyes. His breath was taken away the moment his eyes landed on you when you arrived in the beautiful dress you had worn, he simply had no words to express how he felt at that moment, how you looked at that moment stunned by your beauty beyond recognition that he could barely form a coherent thought.

“Perhaps, but at times we have best friends who even we don’t know are,” you said, looking at him.

“Is that so?” he asked, turning to look at you.

You hummed, “Now, think about it,” you looked around the lake and found two students, quite blatantly a couple, “See there, that couple. Now, say the girl doesn’t have a friend,” you looked at him, checking if he is listening and continued once he nodded, “So, he consecutively becomes her best friend and boyfriend, and she might not even recognize it.”

“It could be anyone like that?” he asked.

“Anyone - a professor, your mother, father, sibling. At times even pets,” you said, “Sometimes this little thing is what forms love, and it necessarily isn’t romantic,”

“You do give beautiful philosophy lessons, don’t you?” he said, leaning back against the trunk.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “If I really were to give philosophy lessons, you wouldn’t always find me with a group of people,”

Draco grinned and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence before he asked a question, “You never came near the water. Why?”

“You noticed?” you said, looking shocked.

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugged.

“I don’t really like water,” You said, playing with your fingers. Getting on the hint about your discomfort on the topic he remained silent.

“Can someone who neither you nor they know much about be your best friend?” he asked, after staring at the moon for so long.

“What do “they” do to you?” you asked. Draco’s eyes skittered through the water, “Provide some-some sort of comfort at the same time making me feel…weird. Have the effect on me like their smile would make my day and their laugh, its the most beautiful, makes me feel...s-safe,”

“Draco,” you breathed, and chuckled, disregarding the feeling your stomach, “You are in love,”

He whipped his head to look at you, “Love?”

“Yep,” you said, shortly.

“I am?” he said, letting out a sharp breath.

“Seems to be,” you said, “I think it’s about time. I need to leave to my dorm,” you stood up from your place to leave.

“No, wait,” Draco scrambled to his feet, taking hold of your wrist, “Would you-would you like to spend the next Hogsmeade trip with me?”

You were physically taken aback by his question. Why would he want to spend it with you? “Me?”

“Yeah,” he gulped. You had never seen him get nervous.

“Like on a date?”

“If you don’t mind that is,”

“What about that person?”

“Which person?”

“The one you were talking about, you know the one you like,”

“Why, of course,” You said, chuckling, “But I am choosing the location,”

Draco looked at you shocked for a minute before bursting out laughing. He pulled you closer once his laughter started to subside, holding your face between his hands, “It is you,”

”Oh,” your eyes widened. Not allowing you to think or react he once again asked his question, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Nuh huh, already got the dream date set up in my mind,”

“That better not have anything to do with water,” you warned.

“We’ll see about it,” Draco said, chuckling as he pulled you closer by your waist.

“Draco!”

[daraanna]

Festival

When Sakura told him about the festival organized by Hokage to celebrate Konoha’s friendship with Kirikagure, he hadn't expected something like this. The whole thing was like a strange combination of a concert with a party and a barbecue. It was supposed to be made in the style that festivals are organized of the northern region of Water Country. He tried to escape, but as soon as they got there, his wife was kidnapped by Ino to the dance floor. In addition, his daughter was dragged by her friend to the buffet. Sasuke sat down on the bench and watched the rest from a safe distance. Yamanaka and Sakura really enjoyed themselves. Hinata and Naruto were dancing not far from them, although in the case of an idiot, dancing is too much to say. Temari and Shikadai looked much more representative than Hokage and his wife, even though Nara had an expression that clearly showed how troublesome the whole event was to him. Just like his son, who together with Inojin played some card game on one of the distant benches similar to the one on which he was sitting now. Choji was at the buffet until his wife forced him to dance. There were also three girls on the dance floor whom he knew as his daughter's friends. They danced in a small circle with Lee’s son and two boys he did not know. Boruto, who had apparently inherited his dancing skills from his mother was very popular among young kunoichi and civilian girls that came for the party. Sarada broke his deliberations as she sat down beside him with salad to eat.

-Chocho decided to teach Mitsuki how to dance ...

He looked at her, but the girl was busy separating the tomato slices from the rest of her food.

"And you don't want to join them?" He asked.

"Not really..." she replied shifting her plastic plate to him.

“Hn” he replied eating the tomatoes left by her. The head of the Uchiha family definitely understood that you might not like this type of activities. Besides, sitting next to her, he could keep an eye on the teenagers who were checking out his daughter.

They sat like that for a long time. Sarada kept staring at the dance floor while he gave a murderous glare to any boy, who wanted to approach their bench. Until Sakura came back to them. Involuntarily, all his attention shifted to her.

“Who's going to dance me?“ She asked, stretching her hands to both Uchihas, causing them a slight consternation ”I know that you want this~”

"Tch," he grunted, there was no way he could be acting like a fool in front of so many people. Fortunately, this time his wife amazing gift of persuasion lead his daughter on the dance floor. The young kunoichi seemed a little nervous at beginning, but soon she relaxed and danced to the cheerful music with her mother. He smiled gently seeing his two loved ones having a great time. However, he grimaced as soon as he saw the young Uzumaki asking his daughter to next dance. His parental instinct told him to intervene just as the music slowed down. Boruto may have been his trusted student, which did not mean that he would allow him to pick up his little peanut. However, before he managed to reach the middle of the dance floor, someone put his arm around his neck and pulled him against her body. Confused, he looked at his wife, whose face was so close to his.

“Sasuke-kun let's dance” she said in a sweet tone. He knew he was trapped. He was rarely able to deny her anything, but now he was on the mission to protect their child.

“Sakura ... I have to ...”

“Oh Anata, let them have some fun” it did not comfort him at all.

"They are 13 years old!" He gasped in disgust as he watched the idiot's son embrace Sarada around her waist.

"Exactly and I'm sure they won't do anything stupid," she said, grabbing his face, "Sasuke, look at me ..."

He looked at her green eyes, a soft smile, her hair was gathered in a loose bun. She looked lovely, as always.

“Hn.”

Sakura smiled wider and rested her head on his shoulder, and he embraced her with his only hand.

"Just relax and listen to the music" she whispered soothingly. He slowly began to relax, focusing on this moment he was spending with his wife, completely forgetting about the world around them.

.................................................. .............

She felt so awkward. Unfortunately, most of her interactions with Boruto lately have been terribly awkward. She wasn't sure when it started, they had been friends for as long as she could remember, but since when she began to be so aware of their every touch. Since when sight of his blue eyes made her heart beat like mad. Since when did he take over hers thoughts? At first she had no idea what was happening to her, but over time her mind found a terrifying explanation ... She was in love with her teammate. What’s worse, she thought that he noticed this, because he has recently acting really strange towards her. She couldn't let her stupid hormones destroy their  the most important friendship. Even though Boruto was annoying he was her best friend, she couldn't lose him.

“Thanks for the help. I thought they won’t leave me alone!” Hers thoughts were interrupted by his voice. He was right in front of her, his hands holding her waist, while she had no idea what to do with her hands on his shoulders.

"That's what teammates are for, right?" She smiled nervously. Her eyes fell on the group of girls glaring enviously in their direction. As the son of the Hokage, Boruto has always attracted attention. With his character, he made new friends easily, and being handsome, he also made his own fan club in the village. Civilian girls and students of the last grades of the academy, to the genins and younger chunins of their village. Sarada never paid much attention to her appearance. Her clothes needed to be comfortable and neat. She didn't think she was pretty or ugly. She thought she was average, but now she felt insecure. All these girls were really pretty, and she ... she wondered if he find her pretty... Tch... annoying ...

“Is everything okay? “she realized that she had been staring at his shirt for several seconds, and how stiff her whole body was “ I know that the music is a little bit boring, but maybe you want share with me another dance ?” he added, smiling in the same way he always did when he was cheering her up. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Are you sure your fans will allow it?" She teased. The boy just rolled his eyes.

"I should have asked you at the beginning, they are too aggressive ..." he said and she blushed. Even if it's stupid, his words made her happy. When the band started to play something faster, she relaxed a bit. To her surprise, Boruto was very good at dancing and she was able to predict his movements as good as when they fought together. She quickly forgot about her worries. They danced and fooled around. She didn't notice when one song turned into two and then three ... When the melody slowed down again, she wasn't sure how much they danced together. He hugged her waist, but this time they were even closer together. They were both out of breath, as after hard trending. Feeling more confident, she embraced his neck. Looking at him like that, she felt week. He looked so handsome in the suit. In addition, the pink shirt highlighted his blue eyes. Her attention finally caught his lips. She began to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Their faces were centimetres apart, it would not be difficult to... Suddenly she felt strongly embarrassed by her own thoughts. To avoid doing something stupid (and to hide the flush on her face), she leaned her head against his shoulder, lightly tucking her face against his neck. They swayed slightly to the sounds of a quiet ballad, and although her heart was pounding, she felt wonderful. His presence always gave her a sense of security, he smelled of a combination of the scent of the sea with some cologne probably borrowed from his dad, and his body gave her a pleasant feeling of warmth that she could stay that way forever. However, before the song ended, the boy suddenly moved away from her. She looked at him confused, and he smiled and scratched his head nervously.

“ Aren't you thirsty? I saw a Bubble Tea booth here ... let's go ... “before she could answer, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the stalls behind the stage. She wasn't sure what to think about it.

.................................................

The situation was bad. He was sweaty and nervous and felt like he was about to pass out. That's not good way to impress a girl that you maybe have a crush on..

"Are you okay?", She asked when they reached the booth.

"Sure, of course, why are you asking?", He blurted out a little too quickly.

"Um ... You're still holding my hand" he get even more nervous, for two months now, he had been trying to invite her for date... like date date. The problem is that despite how intelligent, person she is. Sarada remained absolutely unaware of his attempts to flirt. The little fan club following him everywhere didn't help. The problem was also that the Uchiha did not seem to notice that she herself was attracting the attention of more and more men. It started after the chunin exam, when his classmates started to have a crush on her. At first it seemed silly to him, after all, it's not that she has changed somehow. However, he quickly began to be disturbed by the boys who were courting her. He felt some strange need to protect her from them. Only after a few months he did realize that he was jealous ...

“Do you want me to stop?” The girl was silent for a long time, and he thought that he would pass out.

"No ... it's okay ..." She replied without looking at him.

"So what for you?", He asked, looking at the blackboard with flavours.

“Black tea with kumquat and passion fruit boba.”

Hearing this, he ordered two drinks, mango and tapioca for himself. He then ignored Sarada's pout as he paid for both of them and the teasing smile the guy sent them. Even after they got their drinks, his friend didn't let go of his hand. It gave him courage.

“Let’s look for a place where we can clearly see the fireworks?”

“Hn. Something far from this crowd ...” she replied finishing her tea and throwing the cup into the trash can on the path leading into Senju Park. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was wearing a summer dress with spaghetti straps with a pleated skirt that ended just above her knee. It was red with a navy blue belt emphasizing her waist. She looked cute and beautiful, red was definitely her colour. However, as darkness fell, the temperature dropped sharply, and he was able to notice that her arms began to tremble. He took off his jacket and covered her shoulders with it.

“Well, who would have thought that you are a such gentleman ...” she teased.

"As always, of course," he replied, adoring her.

"You're sure you won't be cold," she asked, changing her tone to concerned. She always cared about others. It was one of things that make him love her. He still felt a little lost in his feelings, but he had to tell her before someone else do this before him.

"Sarada ..." he began, but suddenly they heard a loud sound. His friend, frightened, made a very not-ninja-like movement, bumping into him. Instinctively, he grabbed her by the waist and searched for the source of the noise to see colourful lights in the sky. They both burst out laughing, when they saw that they were scared of the fireworks. The colours began to light up the sky creating fantastic patterns. He looked back at her. She looked at the sky with a smile, colours shone in her black irises, giving her an almost mystic appearance. Their eyes met, and for the second time this evening he felt like a force was drawing him to her. Sarada, to his surprise, also moved closer. He wasn't sure which of them closed the gap between them. Their first kiss was soft, short, and rather clumsy, but it was also the greatest feeling of his life. When he opened his eyes, he saw her biting her lip with a slight flush on her face. He wanted to say something but heard someone's loud grunt. He felt himself freeze as he noticed purple-red eyes staring at him ...

.....................................

It was supposed to be a quiet dance party and it was like that until her husband and Naruto decided to compete in which of them is the best dancer. Unfortunately, despite their great efforts, none of them proved to be really gifted. All the competition only took their time and energy. They were supposed to go home after the fireworks, but Sarada was nowhere to be found and when they finally find them, they accidentally turned out to witness their daughter's first kiss. While Sakura herself found it cute, her husband didn't take it so easily. However, before he did something stupid, his daughter stood between him and Boruto, also with an active sharingan. It make Sasuke freeze. All he said was they were coming home.

Sarada answered him only with a short "Tch" but after saying goodbye to Uzumaki, she returned home with them. Unfortunately, she now had two pouted Uchihas in the house. Sarada immediately ran to her room, while her husband stayed downstairs in the kitchen complaining about protecting some innocent peanuts? She couldn't help but sigh. Tomorrow she would have to talk to them seriously.

................................

I’m not sure is it more Borusara fic or overprotective Papasuke fic, also I'm not sure if I broke the rules, I hope I didn’t^^’ Okay in the end I edited it, I just felt too guilty XD

Also I’m so happy to see so much Borusara content! This week is a true celebration of our favorite ship!

@borusaraweek2021

[joshslater]

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I would normally be able to roughly keep track of time by how thirsty I was. Master didn't usually tie me up, but there had been many scenes planned by others that had kept me in different kinds of bondage for many hours. This was different on a whole new level. The penis gag kept leaking small amounts of something not quite water. It was the same viscosity, but it tasted more like cum. Perhaps diluted cum, but that wouldn't taste as much as this did, I would guess. It would slowly drip from the end of the rubber dick, back in the mouth where you could easily accidentally inhale it instead. And since you are gagged you can only cough out the liquid through your nose. You quickly learn you can suck it and get a full shot at once, and then nothing for like a few minutes until it starts to trickle again. Makes it bearable, but keeps you awake. I'm getting off-topic I guess. I'm exhausted. I would think that's understandable as this has been by far my longest session, days possibly. I have no way to tell.

This isn't the first time they've changed something or moved my position, but this is the first time they are letting me walk. What a sight that must have been. I could feel them remove the restraints and the other things, one by one. All except the gag, the hood, and the chastity cage. God, that cage has probably been worse than any of the other stuff they did. I have no idea what nasty stuff they smeared on my dick, but I would happily fuck a tube of bengay instead any time. After they smeared the dick in whatever that was they slipped on the tight cage, the kind the also go up the urethra. I've been caged before many times, but pretty soon it just sits there, keeping you horny and impotent. But this shit, it acted as viagra gel, constantly keeping my dick struggling to break free. I can feel it's still trying. But I'm rambling again I guess.

It's the mental version of what pathetic spasms I do when they help me up to walk once the bondages were off. There are at least two of them I can feel, one on each side helping me up, and supporting my steps forward. I feel my mobility is getting back, though we are slowly going somewhere. I can't see where though, for the black sock or whatever covering my head. We are indoors, but it is a bit chilly. That might just be me being naked and suddenly have a blood flow. The floor feels like concrete, I think. Hard and cold.

We walk pretty far, only turning once, and the sound I hear sounds like echoes of a corridor. We turn right and walk into a new room. I can hear more people here, though no one is speaking. After a few turns my guides stop me and something is rolled towards me from behind. I can hear them fiddle with something, then they grab me again, and one of them tells me to sit down slowly. They still hold me, guiding me to whatever I'm supposed to sit on. I suddenly feel a blunt point going up between my ass cheeks. Another butt plug or similar. I slowly lower myself onto it. It is well lubed, and I have had far bigger things up my ass just in the last hour, so I manage to impale myself easily and sit myself down on the modified office chair. It might not be a very thick plug, but it goes deep. Hands grab booth my ankles and pull them backward on either side of the central pole below the seat and I can feel them being secured in some sort of padded, stiff shackles mounted below the seat. Finally I hear a wheel on the side of the chair being turned quickly. I feel the butt plug slowly expanding in my ass, forcing me to sit more and more upright. Certainly more than what I would have liked with the legs folded back the way they are. Then they leave.

I'm more or less naked, secured to a chair, but my arms are free for the first time in I don't know how long. I had cuffs on while master took me to this place. I'm fighting the urge to stretch my arms. I don't know what this is, but if it is a test, I want to succeed. I suppose I could remove my face sock in one quick motion, but that would definitely be a fail. I don't think I want to touch my dick. As painful as it is right now, I don't think it will be any better if I mess with it. Nothing will improve, and then someone will see it and punish me. Who are the other people in this room? I can hear breathing. Are they spectators, or are they secured to furniture like me?

This is worse. When you are tied up you are helpless. You can test the strength of your bondage, but they have so far been rated far above what I can muster in strength. But here you are just sitting almost free, with no idea what to do with your arms. Just waiting, listening, and sucking rubber dick. How is it still feeding liquid by the way? I try to lean back, to see if there is a backrest to the chair, but the buttplug makes it impossible to lean that far back. I know it isn't possible, but it feels like the plug is reaching all the way up to my lungs. Or is it possible?

There's a distant sound getting closer. Several steps getting closer and closer. Once they get into the room, somewhere to my right, I hear them walk to a spot just next to me. Then the same rolling sounds, and the same voice telling the person next to me to sit down slowly. I guess the other people in this room are in the same situation as I am.

They complete the same procedure as was done to me, best I can determine from the sounds. Then they leave, and it's all calm and silent again. You would think I would be used to that by now, after having master tell me to sit somewhere and wait, only to be gone for hours. He doesn't allow me to watch TV or read books, so all I have is to think about what has happened recently, what I'm feeling right now, and on the rare occasion what was long ago. That's on purpose of course, so my thoughts center on master, myself and nothing else, but I can't help thinking like something has been taken from me. Thoughts I might have had.

Footsteps again, lots of them. How long was it since they left us? I tried to keep count of how many times I suck the gag dry, but gave up when I came to about eighty for the third time. I think it was the third time. They don't talk. Their steps all sound the same. It must be at least four of them.

I'm completely unprepared when someone behind me pulls the sock off my head and the light of the room burns my eyes. I haven't seen any light since master put a gym bag over my head, however many days ago. The entire wall on the left is windows. This is a run-down classroom, almost stripped bare. The green blackboard is still on the wall in front of me, and on the small elevation where once a teacher's desk stood a man is standing. There is a desk in front of me, out of reach, with some papers and a pen neatly placed on top of it. There's a line of desks. I look to my sides and see five other naked men locked to modified office chairs. All have a gag secured around their head, with a transparent plastic tube attached to the gag in one end, and a drip bag hanging on an IV stand next to them. This isn't just a weekend at one of master's friend's home.

The man in front of us simply stands still, observing us. Handsome, muscular, short hair, black boots, blue jeans, and white T-shirt. Once bored with our puzzled looks he starts to speak to us.

"Congratulations. Your master has decided to improve you to better serve him. I don't know your master, or what he has done to you before, but I'm pretty sure this next part of your life is going to be your toughest so far. I'm not going to tell you how long this training program is. I'm not going to tell you what you will learn and unlearn. I'm not going to tell you what alterations will be made to your body. But I am telling you that your master knows the answer to these questions, and have handed over you and a sizeable amount of money to implement these changes."

He makes a sweeping gesture in our direction.

"These are your classmates. You will never learn their names, should they still have any." He made a crooked smile. "Though I guess you will be very familiar with what each and every one of them smells and tastes like. While the majority of the program here is the same for all of you, there are some customizations that are unique to you, as per your master's wishes. Parts of the program have already started. No doubt you have reflected on the uncomfortable feeling in your dick and balls. As you know all too well the point of a chastity device is not only to control when you get hard, but also to create an ever-present low hum of horniness, so you are always ready to please. A side effect, though some see it as a bonus, is the ever-shrinking dick size after prolonged wearing."

I wasn't sure what the rules were, but one of my hands sought its way down to touch my cage. I got a wave of dull ache in response. The man's eyes shifted to me, but he showed no change in expression and continued to talk uninterrupted.

"The process you have all started will rapidly accelerate this, both in terms of horniness and dick shrinkage. When you leave here you'll have not much more than a circumcised dick head rubbing against your panties, leaking precum, and keeping you horny. You won't need a dick cage. You'll be unable to play with your dick anyway without a vibrator."

Suddenly someone behind me pushes the chair forward, stopping just behind the small desk. Everyone else has been moved forward as well.

"In front of you is a contract waiving any rights and objections you might have to this education and to any modifications done to you. Nothing done so far is irreversible, but once you graduate we will have done our utmost to make it impossible for you to go back to a normal life. We're talking permanent physiological changes. You think it is water you're sipping on?"

He made a pause, letting it all sink in. I love my master, and this past year with him has been lovely, but is it all I want out of life. What does he mean by physiological changes? Can you actually develop a dependency for sucking dick? Is that what he means?

There is a spray of mist coming out of the man to my right. Sounds like he tried to not swallow any more of the liquid after what he just heard. He makes horrible noises while he recovers. No one moves an inch towards him to help him.

"Read the contract if you want. Put your initials on every page. Sign the last page."

[slashscowboyboots]

The Blackboard Jungle: All I Want For Christmas Is You (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Izzy tweeted!  And in celebration, here’s the final part of this fic

Tag list @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands ​ @smokeandmirrorz ​ @sodalitefully ​ @roger-taylors-car ​ @harley-m-rose ​ @whisperess33 ​ @shawolat​ ​ @80snikki @rumoured-whispers

Warnings: the f-bomb, total holiday fluff

You wound your way through the department store, dodging people and wanting to puke from all the Christmas music as you searched for your mother a nice gift.  She was the last one you had to buy for, and you wanted to get her just the perfect thing this year.

I think she has plenty of snow globes, you thought, absentmindedly turning one upside down and watching the glitter float down, then heard someone call your name.

You turned and looked into the grinning face of Miss Peterson, Patti’s third-grade teaching cohort.

“Hiiiii, doll,” she chirped.

“Hello, Cindy, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m just great.  Are you shopping for your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?  I don’t-”

“Patti told me all about it.  I mean, well she made a long post on Instagram, how the two of you had been friends for so long, good friends, at least she was to you, and you chose that Jeff Isbell over the happiest day of her life-”

“Did she really?” you snapped.  “Well, since the two of you are so close, please tell her I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’”  And go fuck yourselves, you thought, deciding your mother would enjoy a very nice pair of diamond earrings.

It was unbelievable to you, how you and Jeff were the names on everyone’s lips anymore, especially since it was all so mistaken.  It was heartbreaking how everyone thought you were a couple, when you were simply coworkers who were also close friends.

Of course, you were never able to get him out of your head, especially since the Thanksgiving program.  Your combined classes had first traced their hands and colored their drawings in, decorating their turkey pictures with feathers and googly eyes (you stifled a laugh watching the Harrison twins hungrily eyeing the paste, and snorted when you saw Jeff leaping over a chair with his gangly legs to glue their turkey eyes down himself) and enjoying their lunches together.

He had excused himself during the break, and you paused while eating your sandwich, thinking about how really good he was as a teacher, how he never once talked down to the kids or lost his patience with them.  He always had time to listen to them, hanging onto their every word.

And they loved him in return, every single one of them showing them their turkeys the second they finished them, and the amount of praise he heaped on their artwork made you smile.

Putting away your lunch bag with a sigh, you looked up just in time to see a six foot tall turkey, complete with wattles, standing in the doorway of your classroom.  His tail feathers were so impressive he had to turn sideways just to make it through the doorway.

The children erupted in cheers, and Mr. Isbell strode in and fanned his plumage to their great delight, then announced that if they all quieted down, he would read to them, “Bear Gives Thanks.”  After he closed the book, he asked them what they all were thankful for.

He got various answers, from “my new puppy” to “my dad got a new job.”  But the one that stood out the most was from Cicely Brown.  She raised her hand and said in a quiet voice, “Mr. Isbell, I’m thankful for a teacher like you.”

Tears pooled in his eyes, and you heard a catch in his voice when he whispered, “Thank you.”  He turned around (well, awkwardly walked in a circle to turn around) to you and asked, “Miss Y/L/N, what are you thankful for?”

“Hmmm.  I’m thankful for friends.  And I’m thankful for every person that’s in this room.”

His eyes met yours, his smoldering gaze still able to buckle your knees.  “Me too.”

“But I don’t want to be an elf.”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, I went and got an elf costume just for you.  Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

You put your hands on your hips and pouted.  “I have plenty of Christmas spirit.  Why can’t I be Mrs. Claus?”

“Because she doesn’t hand out candy canes.  She stays home and entertains strange men while Santa works all night.”

“Oh, she does not!”  You smacked Jeff’s arm, shaking your head.  He really was going to talk you into this getup, wasn’t he?”

You took it from him and he said, “Hurry up and get changed.  I need you to help me put on the Santa suit.”

“Why do you need help?” you called from the coatroom, pulling your green and red striped tights on.

“Because I make a skinny Santa, and I have to hold the belly while you button the jacket.”

When you came out, he had already changed into his Santa pants and boots and was sitting at your desk expectantly holding a pillow over his chest and stomach.

“Jeff, you really should eat more if you want to wear this suit,” you laughed, buttoning the buttons over his padded belly.

He made a face, and you said, “What?”

“Nobody calls me Jeff except for my mom.”

“What do they call you?” you asked, puzzled.

“Izzy.  Or Iz, if you’re into the whole brevity thing.”  He buckled his belt as all the wind left you, then he slapped your elf hat onto your head.  Flicking the bell to make it jingle, he said, “C’mon, Sugar Cookie, let’s make a bunch of little people happy.”

It was entirely possible that you wished all the students a Joyous Holiday and handed them a candy cane after they visited with Santa.  You had no idea if you actually did, the earth had screamed to a halt after you’d heard Jef-uh, Izzy’s admission.

After all the pupils had left, he shot you a delighted grin, then furrowed his eyebrows at you.  “Hey, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly.  “I’m….hot.”

“Me too.  Let’s get changed and go back to the party.”

Although you were dazed, you flung your elf costume off in record time, exiting the coatroom in time to see Izzy unbutton his Santa jacket and toss aside his pillow.  He slumped in your chair clad in a white undershirt, slinging an arm against his forehead to wipe off the sweat, and when he dropped it down beside him you could see a tattoo just below his elbow.

Without thinking, you walked over to him and picked up his wrist.  Written in delicate script high on his inner forearm was desperadosdreams.

He tried to pull away from you, then he noticed you gasping for air with tears in your eyes. “Does that make sense to you?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, then pressed your lips to his, leaning down and throwing your arms around his neck.  When you pulled away for a breath, you looked into his eyes, then pushed the sleeve of your shirt up and extended your arm.

“Does that say IZ?” he asked in a halting voice, and you nodded again, then climbed onto his lap for another passionate kiss.  You carded your fingers through his hair as his lips traveled down the front of your throat, then he rubbed his nose against yours as you heard PJ Jones say, “I saw Miss Teacher kissing Santa Claus.  And he liked it!”

“Hi, Ian!” you smiled, holding up your ring finger.

“Hi!” he grinned.  “Ooh, that’s nice!  Congratulations!”

You held your phone toward Izzy.  “Ian, this is Izzy.”

“Oh, shit, he’s cute,” Sia said.  “Hi, Sexy!”

“Izzy, this is Sia.  She’s Ian’s fiancee.”

“Well……” she said, then they both held up their ring fingers.

“Omigosh!  You guys got married?!” you exclaimed.

“Yes!  I had to promote ‘Sharknado’ at the MGM Grand, and well, since we were in Vegas, we-”

Sia interrupted, “We found this Elvis impersonator, and it was so tacky and cool, I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.”

“Congratulations!  Can you guys come to ours?”

“When is it?” Ian asked, with Sia hollering “Hell yeah!” in the background. 

“Next spring.  We don’t want to wait that long.”  You leaned over and pecked Izzy on the lips.  “We’ve waited our whole lives to find each other, we want our married life to begin as soon as possible.”

Thank you so much for being a part of this fic!  Because of wedding plans and moving and all that good jazz, I won’t be writing fics online anymore, but I will never forget how wonderful it was to have all your support.  Love you always, desperadosdreams

“I do,” you said.

“You bet I do,” Blaze said, sliding your beautiful wedding band on your finger.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Blaze, kiss your bride,”

He swept you in his strong arms, spinning you around, then dipped you and kissed you hard, the first kiss of the rest of your lives, as the fiery red sun sank in the horizon behind the two of you.

Now it was time for the two of you to begin your lives together, and dream as one.   And as he kissed you again, you knew you’d found forever, and he had been worth waiting for.

[alrighttevans]

invisible strings

chapter 1: well i wonder

Ao3 link

chapter 2: well i wonder

Marinette wished she knew who the apparently cheerful boy behind that black mask and cat-like green eyes was, as she doodled a butterfly on the margins of her notebook, in French class. 

Despite being so adamant in keeping their identities as a secret, she’d be lying if she claimed she never wondered who he was, especially now. Before last night, she had never worried about Chat Noir’s civilian life. Why would she? He was always so merry and well disposed that it was contagious — it was hard to picture her partner as the same boy she had met last night, she mused, as she sketched the pink long dress she was currently working on —, but the boy she saw last night wasn’t cheerful. He was so determined in shrugging her concern away with some of his light comments, however his body language couldn’t lie to her with the same determination. Chat was her best friend. Marinette couldn’t let him hurt, all alone. But what could she do? He wouldn’t talk to her. He was shutting Ladybug out. She didn’t know how to look for him as Marinette. Something was wrong with her kitty, and that made her question her entire relationship with Chat. What other problems was he burying under his merry personality and dealing with all alone? Was he hurting all that time and she had never known? She wished she knew who he was so she could try and help him and hold him and tell him it’s gonna be okay. 

However, until the day the reveal of their secret identities arrived, she had to trust Chat Noir to talk to her, in case things got too bad on his side. 

The problem was she didn’t think he would. 

What were her options, then? Perhaps, she could—

“Marinette!” She jumped on her seat, whilst her head snapped at the sound of her name, only to find no one other than Adrien Agreste, with his soft golden hair, bathed by the sun that shone through the window just so it could flatter even more his looks, and deep, welcoming green eyes, in which she would gladly drown, waving his hand on her face. Marinette felt her cheeks burn — a very common sensation for when she was around that boy. For how long had he been calling her, as she ignored him? That was so embarrassing. She was so caught up on her thoughts that she didn’t realise Adrien, of all people, wanted to talk to her!

“Y-yes?”

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” He quickly apologized, scratching the back of his neck, as a light blush creeped into his features.

“It’s okay! You have to apologize! I m-mean you don’t have to apologize!”

Perfect as always, he decided to ignore her bad manners and the stuttering mess she still became sometimes, when he caught her off her guard, and chose to both nod and give her his most brilliant smile, that melted her whole heart, that easily. “Class is over. It has been for a few minutes, but you didn’t seem to notice.”

“Oh”, Marinette spared a glance on her surroundings, watching a deserted classroom, other than for her and Adrien, a clean blackboard and empty seats before her, “Thank you, Adrien.” She added, as her eyes came back to find his, once again, but his gaze was too busy to meet hers. 

Following the trail left behind his stare, she found that what had caught up his attention was her notebook, full of the doodles she did while she didn’t mind any attention to the teacher. There was the butterfly, her long dress, a few hairstyles she wanted to try, and— “Is that Chat Noir?” He questioned her, as he, all of the sudden, decided it was a good idea to look in her eyes as intensely as he did to the notebook, with some kind of fondness and bewilderment, which felt like Adrien could see her beyond her skin.

“Yes...?” was her response, which sounded more like a question, as she glanced back to the notebook, unsure if she could sustain Adrien’s stare for much longer, where yesterday’s Chat Noir lied, looking back at her with that mournful expression that was so out of character for him. A Chat Noir she didn’t know she had drawn. A Chat Noir that made her heart break at the sight of his melancholy. 

A Chat Noir only Ladybug had ever seen. 

A Chat Noir Marinette shouldn’t have known, her eyes widened at the realisation, as she quickly closed the notebook with a loud noise, and shoved it, along with her other materials, inside her bag. 

“Oh, look at the time! I should probably go.” Marinette announced, while she stood up and dashed to the door, feeling panic run through her veins. What was she thinking, doodling this in class? “My parents must be waiting for me! Bye, Adrien!”

“Marinette?”

She bit back all the curses that rose through her throat, for she couldn’t resist the way her name poured like honey from his mouth — that boy made her weak —, but, instead, she walked away from the close escape she had managed to reach, to look at the soft frown on his gorgeous face. “Yes?” She asked, trying to sound as nonchalantly as she could, at the same time he held a quizzical look on his face.

“We’re having lunch at Nino’s today. Have you forgotten?”

Oh. 

Right.

Nino had invited her, Alya and Adrien over.  

Marinette repressed the overwhelming need she felt to slap herself and forced an artificial smile into her lips. “Of course I didn’t!” She began, searching for the first excuse that would pop into her mind. “I… I was just checking if you remembered! You did! Ha-ha!”

“Shall we, then?” Being the gentleman that he was, Adrien didn’t comment on her behaviour, but grinned at her, while he ruffled his hair, before pointing at the exit, in a request for her to take the lead, which she promptly took, after a fair amount of nodding from her part.

This is a disaster her heart knew, when she walked all the way from their classroom to the front of the school with Adrien — thankfully, brilliant as he was, he filled the silence left by Marinette’s absence in their conversation while excitingly talking about this new game he had bought, and she could get away from it by excessively nodding.

This is a complete disaster her eyes screamed as she met Alya and Nino at the end of the stairs and she basically grabbed her best friend’s arm before she could choose to walk with her boyfriend, so Marinette would have at least a little bit of time to recover herself from her embarrassment.

This is totally, utterly disastrous, she was sure as Adrien, whom, for some ungodly unknown reason, had decided to sit right in front of her during their meal, kept staring her, every, now and again with that same gaze that did things to her back at school — things she wasn’t used to him making her feel!, which spoke volumes since she had been infatuated with him for a long time, now.    

It would be an euphemism to say that Marinette was freaking out.

What if Adrien thought she was a Chat Noir fangirl? She would never hear the end of it, if Chat himself happened to hear about it. It would be so embarrassing, especially considering she was Ladybug! Or worse! What if he thought she had a crush on Chat? Then he would never know she actually fancied him! How were they going to buy a house together and adopt a dog, a cat and a hamster if he didn't know? Oh my God, what about the kids?! And why the hell was he still looking at her like that, but now almost holding back a grin? Adrien didn’t grin like that to her! Oh my God, what if he thought she was Ladybug? Of course, only Ladybug would know something so personal about Chat Noir to put it on paper like she had; only Ladybug would have looked at her kitty close enough to capture the extent of his sorrow; only Ladybug could have drawn that! She was doomed, completely and utterly doomed. 

He knew. She had ruined it all and given herself out. He was only waiting for the perfect time to confront her on it. 

And he would think Ladybug fancied Chat Noir, above all!

This was a disaster!

“What?” Alya’s voice interrupted her track of thought, as she turned right to see her friend staring back at her, with a frown. 

“What?!” With a confused expression of her own, Marinette stared back, waiting for someone to explain to her what was going on. 

“What’s a disaster?”

Oh, no, did she say that out loud? How fucking much had she said? She could feel her face reach an yet unknown shade of red as she realised all three of her friends were gazing at her, expectantly. 

“Oh, n-nothing! Don't mind me”, she tried to dismiss their questions and worried complexions with a wave of her hand, “I was just thinking out loud, that’s all!”

“Is everything alright, Marinette?” Adrien bloody Agreste just had to look at her with his bewitching emerald eyes, while all his concern for her sanity cascaded through his voice —  how ironic was it that he was the one driving her mad?

“Sure isn’t! I mean, sure is!”

She wanted to die. 

Maybe she could make a go for the window and off herself before anyone could stop her, she guessed. She was quite fast.  

“Okay…” Alya, being the darling that she was, took the attention away from Marinette as she changed subjects, after giving her a pointed look that demanded an explanation later. She breathed in relief — when had she stopped breathing? “Have you guys heard? Ladybug and Chat Noir were spotted together before dawn.”

Oh, she started breathing too soon, she realized, as Alya showed them the pictures of the duo, which were sent to her on the Ladyblog.

Marinette loved being Ladybug, loved the people of her city — that seemed to love her just as much —, but sometimes it was too fucking much. They weren’t fighting an akuma at that night, they weren’t giving an interview, nor were asked to take a picture. She and Chat Noir weren’t playing superheroes, they were just two people (who were public figures that happened to have superpowers) having a very personal moment, a moment that felt stolen, as she watched her friend’s finger touch the screen to reveal even more photos. It was theirs, and nobody had the right to take it from them and share it to the world. She felt irritated and sad for Chat, for it was his moment of vulnerability, and having it exposed for all of Paris to see and speculate was just cruel. 

“Chat Noir looks sad, doesn’t he? I wonder what happened.” Alya pondered, sliding through the screen. 

“Poor dude. I hope he’s alright”

“Alya, you should take the photos down.” Marinette chastised, throwing a pointed look at her friend, who held an expression that was a mixture of both confusion and discontent. 

“What? Why?”

“How do you think Chat Noir will feel when he sees those?” She stressed; her hands gesticulating throughout her sentence, before she folded her arms on her chest, whilst arching her eyebrows, scoldingly. “It’s not right. I’m sure he doesn’t want all Paris prying into his problems.” 

“But... I should inform people on our heroes.” The redheaded insisted, even though she didn’t sound as convicted on her argument as she usually was. “Maybe we can help him, somehow.”

“If you want to help him, delete the photos and then make a post saying you're doing it in respect for him — as everybody should.”

Alya sighed guilty and gazed back at her mobile, “You’re right. I’ll do it.” She promised, as she started tapping on the screen. 

If Chat Noir wouldn’t allow Ladybug to help him, then Marinette would. She would do anything for her kitty, and if acting backstage was, for now, all she could work with, she’d do as such.

She turned back on her seat, reaching for her orange juice glass that laid on the table, only to accidentally meet Adrien’s piercing gaze. Something shone on his eyes, in a strangely familiar way. It was… wonder.

chapter 3: dancing with our hands tied

[phlebaswrites]

People Like You

Summary:

There’s safety in numbers.

An Aburame knows that if anyone does.

Modern AU.

Rating: Teen And Up Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Aburame Shino/Fuu of Takigakure Word Count: 1038 (Complete)

Written for @konoha-pride​ and the prompt ‘Found Family’, and for @goddcoward​ who requested ‘t4t shino/fuu they’re both trans!! trans girl fuu and transmasc shino’.

The title comes from the song People Like You by Johnny Reid.

Shino ducks into his scarf to hide his face a little better.

He hates moving schools.

Everyone always stares.

Between his dark glasses, baggy clothing, and scarf, he's about as covered up as he can be - thank god it's still winter, he doesn't know what he'll do when it's summer - but it's still uncomfortable.

He tried to pull on an extra jacket this morning, citing the weather, but his father just gave him a look and he put it back right away.

School uniforms for school, that's the rule.

His parents don't care what he wears at any other time, but school is inviolate.

He trudges up to his new classroom and waits for his name to be called.

When it's time, he steps into the room and walks to the teacher's desk before he turns and bows. "My name is Aburame Shino. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The teacher makes the usual speech, which he largely ignores in favour of scanning the faces before him, matching them to the list of students that he's already memorised.

And then comes the part that he was dreading.

"Aren't you a girl?" One of the older boys leans forward, eyeing him up and down with a leer. "I heard that your family had an heiress.”

The teacher snaps out a reprimand for inappropriate behaviour, but it's entirely covered up by a furious scolding from a girl with mint green hair.

"How dare you! That is gossip and you should know better than to question someone about their gender! If you didn't learn a lesson from the last time, I'm happy to teach it to you again!” She waves her fist threateningly at the boy who is at least half again her size and he leans away from her.

It's subtle, but he does it.

Huh.

After the teacher manages to get the whole class settled down again, she gestures to the girl who spoke up on his behalf. "I think you should take the seat behind Fū-kun."

Shino merely nods and makes his way up the aisle between the desks to the very back of the classroom and sits down, unpacking his bag.

But, the very first time the teacher turns to write on the blackboard, Fū-kun turns her head and winks at him.

Maybe, just maybe, this school won't be so bad after all.

Read the rest on AO3!

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Summer Love: Chapter Two

A/N: So to begin, I have absolutely nothing against Lyn-Z. I have a whole post about this and why we as fans of Gerard shouldn’t hate her, because she makes him happy. That being said for the sake of this fic she is being put into a hated position. So I’m sorry about that, but that’s just how it’s going to roll. Once again, I have nothing against Lyn-Z but for the sake of this fic she’s going to be “bad”. Also I haven’t updated in a few weeks... sorry about that. Word count: 2368

Bright and early at 8 am your alarm clark went blaring. You rolled over on your bed, groaning and attempting to shut it off, keeping your eyes closed. Of course, it didn’t work. You ended up having to sit up and turn it off, resulting in the sun directly hitting your eyes. “Shit.” You muttered.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You heard Melanie already up working on something. She was a morning person. You growled. “Someone’s not happy.” “Oh, I’m thrilled to be up.” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. Your feet touched the freezing floor. You got up, grabbing a pair of jeans shorts, a large black belt, and a Green Day shirt from their concert you went to just a few months back. You went into the showers, preparing for the cold droplets to hit your skin which had yet to reel from the warm feeling of the bed.

“Remember, breakfast is in 25!” Mel called from the main area of the cabin. After turning on the shower, you let it sit for around a minute before getting in. The temperature of the water helped awake you even more. You ran your fingers which were soaked with shampoo through your hair, making sure to scrub deeply. Next you took your loofa and coconut scented soap, scrubbing all over your body. It didn’t take you longer than five minutes to get completely scrubbed off.

You changed quickly, using your towel to mess with your hair to let it air dry. You ran out, grabbing your pair of beaten Vans high tops and went out with Melanie, your hair hanging loose and wet.

The two of you walked in right as breakfast was starting, meeting the boys at the table. “Hey guys.” Mikey greeted you two, you both smiled.

“Y/N looks like a wet rat.” Frank snickered.

“Thanks,” You smirked, “That’s the look I was going for.”

“Did you just disrespect Green Day?” Ray asked Frank.

“No, Y/N did.” This time you punched Frank’s arm.

“Hey Y/N/N.” Gerard greeted you.

“Hey Gee.” You sat next to him and smiled. You all waited for your table to be called up, some of you grabbing the full selection of eggs, bacons, and pancakes. You just grabbed fruit, not being that hungry.

“So what’s everyone taking?” Melanie asked.

“I’m taking graffiti art.” Frank smirked.

“Who would let you sign up for that?” Ray asked.

“I don’t know,” He smiled, “I just signed up for it and they gave it to me.”

“I’m taking storytelling in writing.” Mikey said.

“A very Mikey class.” You added.

“I’m taking art history.” Ray said.

“That’s even more of a Ray class.” Melanie concluded.

“Photography.” You said.

“Does that mean you’re gonna take nudes?” You threw a piece of your apple at Frank.

“Absolutely not,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m a self respecting woman.” You looked over at Gerard who was blushing.

“Um, I’m taking cartooning.” He lightly smiled.

“I’m taking graphics.” Melanie ended the conversation. You all continued eating as fast as you could without chocking. Once finishing, all of you dispersed back to your cabins to grab your things before meeting at a small area on the lake to hang before the day officially began.

“What’s up losers.” She greeted the group, the two of you being last. “Can’t wait for this day to start.” “I’m dreading taking classes.” Frank said.

“Why?” You asked.

“Ever since they got rid of the music program this place has gone down hill.” “Music program?” Gerard asked from across the picnic table where he sat next to Ray.

“Yeah, there used to be a music program here but they dropped it due to budget cuts. And to get jet skies.” You explained. “Stupid fucking jet skies that nobody fucking uses because they’re dumb.” Frank added on.

“If you can’t tell, Frank has yet to get over it.” “Over it?” He snapped. “That was the whole reason I got in!”

“Yeah, I know.” You sighed. “But this place doesn’t suck.” “The only thing that doesn’t completely suck are you guys.” He said.

“Dude, we’re literally on a lake.” You pointed to the body of water ahead of you.

“And?” “Lakes are super fun.” He rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

“We need to reserve the bonfire for tonight.” Melanie spoke up. Everyone nodded. “Who’s gonna sign up at lunch?” “I will.” Ray spoke up, “My class is right next to the cafeteria.” You all nodded.

“How’re we all feeling about today?” Melanie moved on.

“Good.” Most of us answered.

“Nervous.” Gerard lightly smiled.

“You’ll be totally fine.” You smiled, “You’re a pretty good guy.” “That’s what I keep telling him.” Mikey said.

“Thanks.” He looked at you.

“Speaking of, it’s quite the walk to most of our classes. We should probably go.” Frank spoke up. You all nodded. You went up to Gerard once everyone began dispersing. “Ready?” You asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He said, walking next to you to a trail in the woods.

“It’s always so beautiful out here.” You looked up and around at the various forestry around you. There wasn’t a bare spot for as far as you could see, except for the slim dirt path ahead of you.

“It is beautiful.” He agreed, doing the same as you. You two walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, just admiring the different areas of the forested area before reaching the small wooden building that held your sketching class.

You walked down a small hallway and into the room number 4. It was a small cozy area, classes had no more than eight students. There were small tables where two people could sit, you and Gerard taking one closest to the window. The walls were lined with various pieces and a small blackboard was up front.

You two grabbed some stuff from your bags as your professor came over to you two. “Ms. Y/L/N.” He said. Larry was an older man. He was 72, and still kicking it with the spirit of a 25 year old. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He smiled.

“You too, Mr. Breck.” You smiled. He looked over to Gerard.

“And who is this?” He looked.

“I’m Gerard, Gerard Way.” He lightly smiled, reaching his hand out to let him shake it. “Well, Mr. Way it’s a pleasure.” They both smiled. Mr. Breck went back to his oak desk, sitting behind it as Gerard and you began to occupy yourselves by sketching. You opened one of your pages that you had begun working on. It was of a girl, you weren’t sure the inspiration you just began drawing her.

“You drew that?” Gerard asked, lightly smiling. You nodded.

“Yeah.” You lightly smiled back.

“It’s incredible.” He looked at it further, his eyes scanning every centimeter.

“Thanks.” You told him. A few more people had come in, taking seats around the room as you and Gee continued drawing. Right before class began you heard some giggling behind you. You could identify that noise from anywhere.

Looking behind you, you saw the group of three girls laughing, the leader was easily seen. Her medium length black hair flowed well, she had a pale complexion that fit her perfectly. Her light red lipstick added a pop of color to her primarily black outfit (and personality). You sighed and turned forward again.

“Are you alright?” Gerard asked lightly.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You tightly smiled back, going back to sketching.

“Alright, now that every body is here,” Mr. Breck stood up in front of everyone, “I think we should begin.” The old man began walking around the class viewing everyone’s books filled with their work. He spent at least a few seconds looking at them before asking everyone to take them out, regardless of how complete they were.

“Now all of these,” He hung them on the board up front, “Will be your inspiration for the next six weeks.” He looked back to all of you, “This is the absolute worst piece you can do. This is the bare minimum I want from all of you.” He said, “You will be better when you leave this class. You will work on your technique until it is nearly perfect. Because we don’t want perfect in art, we want you. Now I want you all to draw whatever comes to mind. You have 15 minutes, your time starts now.”

You weren’t sure what to do, so you just decided on trees. Cliche, but quick and easy. You drew a forested area, making sure to incorporate shadows where necessary and a small trail. You focused on your work until a small timer ticked off. It slightly scared you, put you placed your pencil down, Mr. Breck already starting to collect pages.

“I’ll evaluate these tonight, and bring you all feedback tomorrow.” He stated, making a neat pile of the pages on his desk. He quickly transitioned into talking about techniques for various elements like shadowing. You and Gerard both followed along closely, adding some of the skills to your pre existing works.

“That should be all.” He sighed, looking at his watch. “Class dismissed.” You and Gerard began putting your things in your bags.

“What did you think?” You asked Gerard, who looked down at you as you two began walking out.

“It was nice.” He lightly smiled, “I like Mr. Breck a lot.” “I do too.” You replied. As the two of you exited the building you once again heard the laugh of Lindsey. You couldn’t help but lightly look over, only to find her and her posse, but she specifically was eyeing Gerard up and down, lightly smiling. You looked away and gritted your teeth through your closed mouth, knowing she would be the ultimate enemy this summer.

The two of you continued walking back to main campus, planning on meeting everyone else at your typical table. You walked into the bustling area, immediately seeing everyone else at your table, considering their classes were closer than yours. “Hey guys.” You sat down with them, placing your bag on the floor next to you. “How’s everyone’s days going?” Most of the table answered with a good, or alright. Except Frank, of course. “Terrible.” He sighed. You rolled your eyes.

“And why would that be?” “Bro the first class was soooo boring.” He said, “Some shit about coloring or something.”

“Maybe if you listened you would know.” Ray responded.

“Shut up fro-head.” Eventually you all got in line for the sad excuse of sandwiches for lunch, but you only grabbed some fruit and vegetables considering that was some of the only edible food.

“Y/NNNNNNN,” Frank whined, “When will your parents ship us food?” “Tomorrow.” You stated, taking a bit from your apple.

“But that’s far away.” He said. You rolled your eyes.

“Who’s that?” You heard Gerard from beside you. Everyone looked over to see he was of course looking at Lindsey. You lightly sighed, making sure not to draw attention.

“Lindsey Ballato.” Ray spoke up. Gerard nodded once, keeping his eyes fixated on her. Shit.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom.” You spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.

“You alright?” Mikey asked and you nodded. You quickly made your way out of the dining hall and down to your cabin. Stepping in the wooden box you managed to get your way to the bathroom, shutting the polished oak door and taking a deep breath, keeping your hand placed softly on the cold, metal handle.

Letting you breath regain it’s usual pattern, you sank to the white tile ground, leaning against the wall to the right of the door, a small crevice between the cheap wallpaper plastered on the frame and the ceramic sink.

Knowing Gerard for only a day you had already become attached, cursing yourself at the fact. He was way out of your league and you knew it. Your hands still trembled, trying to regain balance to no avail.

The sound of blood rushed through your ears, eventually slowing down, giving enough room for the essence of a knock from the door to sink in. You swallowed harshly. “Yes?” “Y/N/N?” Melanie asked, “Are you alright?” You didn’t respond, small pools of salty water trailing down your cheeks. You could hear the door creak open, Melanie’s visibly concerned face coming into light. “What happened?” She asked sinking to the ground, grabbing and holding you as you sobbed into the shoulder of her t-shirt.

“I’m so fucking dumb.” You mumbled.

“What?” She asked.

“I should’ve know.” You scratched out, “I’m no good for him. I’ve known him for a day and look at me, pathetically attached like he’s my fucking soul mate or some shit.”

“This is about Gerard, isn’t it?” You nodded. She sighed. “I wish I had a good answer for you, but I don’t.”

“I never knew someone could get attached this easily.” “Neither did I, to be honest with you.” You nodded, staring at your fingers. Then you heard some soft footsteps.

“Y/N?” You heard his voice, you and Melanie’s eyes both shooting open. She helped you up, grabbing some toilet paper and quickly washing the tears off your face. It didn’t help much with the swelling or redness which had also found it’s way to your appearance, and grabbing your hand hoisting you up to standing. “Hey,” He walked in, his face dropping from a light smile to a frown. “What’s wrong?” You looked at Melanie, who was too freaking out.

“Oh um, Y/N just started her period, yeah.” You aggressively nudged her, eyeing her, Gerard’s eyes going wide. That’s the best excuse? “Hormones, ya know.”

“Yeah, um,” Gerard stopped, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “I-I should get going.” He tightly smiled, “If you need anything, just call me.” He looked to you and you nodded. He walked out with speed, closing the door behind him.

“What the fuck?” You turned to her. “My period?” “I was freaking out okay?” She defended, “You turned to me and I had no clue what to do!” You huffed.

“That may have made it worse. A lot worse.”

“It’s fine, he’ll forget about it soon.” “Mhm.” You rolled your eyes, “Sure. Sure he will.”

[janaeekook]

1942 || {ksj}

It’s 1942 and the world is in the midst of World War 2 -- at a boarding school hidden in the country sides of the United Kingdom, 2 students begin to fall in love.

pairing: student!jin x reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: - just fluffy - sad -

“𝙠𝙞𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙤𝙠𝙟𝙞𝙣, 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙙.”

•••

You sat in your favorite place in the school. It was a tall tower the windows gave a great view of the ancient school grounds. Looking out at the pretty scenery you found it hard to believe that there was a war happening in the distance. The grey sky looming over the school making everything dreary inside and out.

Your attention was drawn back to your work. The sound of your pen scratching at the parchment was all that filled the hallow circular room, you were sat in a low window sill. Though it was Saturday you still studied like you always did, and the tower was the only place for you to get some quiet. You were a determined student, your nose always in your books.

Infact, your barely registered when someone entered the room. He was a tall boy, broad shoulders. He was well kept and wore his uniform, his wire glasses framed his face perfectly. Your eyes traveled to his hands which held his own books.

"Oh I apologize." The boy was surprised about another person being there, but so were you.

"You're fine." You smiled, as you looked at him and took in his features. You willed your cheeks not to burn crimson, he was beyond handsome. Like he had been intricately crafted by the gods. You felt the strong urge to reach out and touch him, for in your head you thought he couldn't be real.

"I'm Seokjin." And yet he was real, the way the sides of his eyes crinkled ever so softly with a smile. It was all real.

"Y/n."

~And that was all it took; a simple exchange of names. You started to get to know eachother studying together on weekends in the tower. You had connected so easily it was as if you had known eachother for years. He almost made you forget there was a war raging on, that he could easily be taken away to fight.~

"Seokjin." Your head rose from your maths that You couldn't seem to focus on, his warm eyes wavered from his own work to meet yours from across the room, "Will you have to leave? To fight I mean." He gave a sad smile.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." But you knew he didn't and yet his words still calmed you. Quiet filled the room again.

It was 2 o'clock when you heard him close his textbook, the sound echoed and you looked over to him. He held a playful smile and a shadow of mischief beneath it. He walked over and helped you down from the window sill, his hand lingered on your waist before he withdrew it and spoke.

"Let's go do something."

"Like what?" His smile only grew, he grabbed your small hand in his and practically dragged you down the winding steps that led to the top of the tower. Your giggles filled the stair well as he pulled you along, when you reached the main floor he took you outside, "Where are we going?"

"My second favorite place." He led you to the edge of campus grounds that opened up into a expansive grove of aspen trees.

The sun had broken through the sheet of clouds, it shown between the trees, leaving splotches of sunlight that waved on the ground as the light breeze blew the delicate green leaves that clung to their branches. It was beautiful.

Although where you had come to a stop, was even more breath taking. A small clearing and singular oak tree, it's large branches twisted in every direction. What caught your attention though was a wooden plank swing hanging from one of the branches.

"It's beautiful." Seokjin's eyes had been studying your face like one of his school books. But when those words left your lips along with the smile that graced them he couldn't help but feel relieved that you thought so.

"You like it?"

"I love it." You walked closer to the swing before sitting on it. Seokjin just smiled before removing his tweed jumper that had your schools crest on the left chest pocket. He was left with only his white button down, his loosened striped tie adorning the schools colors and his black corduroy trousers. He set the jacket off to the side before coming behind you pushing the swing.

Your giggles filled the quiet scene, Seokjin just smiled uncontrollably. His feelings for the giggling girl had grown in such a short time, you always seemed to be together but never got bored of the others presence. He didn't know however that you thought the same thing, truthfully you started to like him when you spent hours just talking about your lives, your story's. It seemed harmless, really, but young love- and first love at that, is very powerful.

Your laughs died down as you noticed he was letting the swing slow before you felt him stop it completely. You looked over your shoulder, the height of the swing had brought your face almost parallel to his. Your eyes looked over his features trying to understand why he stopped the swing. He grabbed your chin and moved closer, he was kissing you, ever so softly, scared that if he kissed you too hard you might break.

The thought of someone like Seokjin kissing you was baffling, you even questioned if it was real, but when he pulled away you saw his handsome face and every feature up close. You felt the tingle on your lips from where his had been placed. He seemed equally as flustered as you were, but he spoke as he walked around so he now stood in front of you and grabbed your hands.

"Y/n, I know this is crazy and maybe totally irrational and I wouldn't blame you if it's too fast but, these past 3 weeks of getting to know you have been amazing. It feels like I've known you my whole life." He took a breath and looked you in the eyes, "I love you, y/n."

You just sat there trying to process his words which were so honest and vulnerable. He dropped your hands assuming your silence meant you didn't feel the same, you grabbed his face and his eyes looked up from the green blanket of grass beneath his feet. His sad eyes were reassured when he came to meet your glowing smile.

"Who said it was too early?" His lips found yours again, it was sweet. Sweeter than moments before when he confessed, his true feelings and yours shown bright like chalk on a blackboard, "I love you too."

•••

You didn't want to let his arm go as the two of you walked out of the timeless grove. The sun had told us, as we lay staring at the sky talking, that it was time for supper. You let go of his warm hand only when he opened the large door leading to the main hall where small groups bustled around and sat at one of the large tables.

After bidding you goodbye, He went off to his friends and you went off to yours. When you got to your small but quaint group of friends — Emma, Ashlee and Hope. They seemed relieved to see you, for they thought you had been eaten by wolves, or some other barbaric tale.

"And where exactly have you been?" Ashlee was the first to say something as you sat next to her and across from Hope and Emma.

"Oh didn't you see her come in, with that handsome boy over there Ashlee?" Hope pointed out, a large cheesy grin on her face.

"What's his name?" Emma spoke next with a warm smile, they were all seemed eager to know about the so called, 'tall dark and handsome' boy you walked in with.

"Alright, you caught me." You gave into their stares, "His name is Seokjin, I met him a couple weeks ago and we started to studying together on the weekends, and today -" you paused and looked to the boy who was laughing with his friends, there looked to be six of them. You smiled before looking back to your friends and continuing in a quieter tone this time, "he told me he loved me." Your three friends gasped, they began to squeal in excitement for you.

"What'd you say?" Ashlee asked, now completely invested in the story.

"That I loved him too." They all squealed again.

"Where do you find them, y/n?" Hope questioned, and you chuckled.

"You will find one, trust me." You reassured them before grabbing yourself some food.

You ate and talked about random topics, boys, the food, school work, a new romance novel Hope had read. Just typical things. Until of course curfew came around and everyone wandered off to their rooms, readying themselves for the school day tomorrow.

•••

The next morning you awoke to beams of sun leaking through your window. After checking your watch you threw the blankets from your body before going to change into your school uniform. Ashlee stirred in her bed stretching her tired muscles.

"What's the time?"

"6:15." You had your first class at 7:30. You and Ashlee shared a room, Hope and Emma shared as well and they were just across the hall. Ashlee willed herself out of her bed to get ready for the day.

All dressed and ready, you both left the room and met Emma and Hope in the hall. You walked to your first class together, mathematics. Seokjins friends, Taehyung, Jimin, and Yoongi, were also a part of the class. You had noticed your friends grow quiet fond of these three boys.

Hope would talk wonders of Taehyung and how he was just like a character in her books. Emma would flush at even the mention of Jimin's name, the both of them new to the subject of love, but they clearly had it for each other. Then Ashlee and Yoongi, other than sitting by each other every meal and class they had together, they didn't show much, but the glances and looks they shared told you they partake in things when no one is looking.

You all took your seats and waited for the teacher to arrive, each desk was filled with a tired looking teen whose eyes threatened to shut and welcome sleep back upon their bodies. Although Mr. Pierce never gave the chance, roughly pushing open the door and talking in his typical loud voice.

"Good morning class, get out your books please."

~

The rest of the school day went like any other day, History, Science and English. After your classes you found yourself in the library sitting at an empty table looking over your work. You stood from your seat before wandering into the tall shelves filled with books, you had a research paper for history to write.

You gasped at the feeling of two hands on your waist, you whipped around to see Seokjin. He smiled down at you, he stood rather close and you looked to see if anyone was watching. There was no one. Keeping his voice hushed Seokjin spoke.

"I forgot to ask you something last night."

"Well make it quick I'm busy." You said trying to hide the flush of your cheeks due to the close proximity. He only smiled knowingly at your behavior.

"Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

"You're really asking me that now?" You tried to fight off a smile, but ultimately failed.

"Is that a problem? Because I can wait, but I figured just in case we die." He said the last part as if he was a drama actor and you chuckled. How you got to meet someone like him blew your mind, and to think it was all coincidence.

"We're in a school library Seokjin, not on the battlefield."

•••

He did bug you a lot for your answer that night, and of course you eventually said yes, you'd be crazy not to. You went on adventures during your free time, never forgetting to study of course. Being by his side made it feel like you could defeat the world.

After one month him and his friends began to sit with your group at meals. You had all become quite close, and you saw your friends fall for the boys that were almost as beautiful as Seokjin, in your eyes at least.

Four months rushed past the both of you, of course when you're in love for the first time everything seems to stop, especially time. But really it chugs on. Picnics out to your favorite spot in the grove, they we so romantic, like something you'd once read in a book.

At eight months though was when the intimacy took hold of it all. Kisses became more starved than before, begging for more whenever you were alone. Touches on eachothers bodies turning desperate, wanting to touch the skin beneath. You'd never felt this way before, and you could not describe it better than an immense feeling of want. And then one day you found yourselves tangled in blankets laid out under the shade of an oak tree, it would forever be your favorite place after that moment. Your most vulnerable state, bare to his eyes. It was beautiful and rare, the way he looked at you with adoration and love. A moment you would not soon forget.

"Kim Seokjin, I could love you for the rest of my life. You could be the person I die loving and I'd be completely satisfied." You said as you laid next to him in the shade of the great oak, your unclothed legs tangled together under the blankets. You felt his chest rumble as he let out a chuckle.

"Well, I will love you for the rest of my life." He competed your proclamation with his own.

"What a lucky girl I am." You said before pecking his plump lips.

The two of you eventually decided to pull your clothes back on and head back to the school hand in hand. When you walked into the main hall you saw your friends all talking amongst themselves.

"Where have you two been all day?" Hoseok questioned. Seokjin and you looked to eachother, he spoke first.

"A picnic." He shrugged it off confidently, and you couldn't help but smile.

•••

Ten months felt like ten years, sneaking from our dorms at night, meeting in the place that started it all whenever we could. Wanting nothing more but to feel his skin on yours, to be in his embrace, feel the warmth his body gave off. His scent was intoxicating and fuddled your brain, preventing it from thinking with any form of logic. But what can you say, you're teenagers, logic is the last thing running through your minds.

You woke up one morning after being up into the late hours of the night with Seokjin, in the vacant tower.

"You woke me last night." Ashlee spoke bluntly from her bed, her voice was groggy.

"Sorry." You spoke, sheepishly apologizing for your actions. A hallow knock came from the door, and without giving either of you time to answer, Emma and Hope walked through the door.

They still wore their night gowns, Emma's was decorated with pale yellow flowers, Hopes also had flowers that were a light lavender shade. Ashlee had kicked off her quilt, her night gown, unlike the rest of your white ones was a dark navy blue with white trim lace. And yours was a beautiful mix of small royal purple flowers and deep forest green polka dots, spaced evenly on the white fabric.

"Rise and shine!" Emma spoke, a smile playing on her face. You yawned yet again, "Y/n were you out late again?" You only nodded.

"He said he'd be busy today, and wanted to spend time together."

"Well then, you can hangout with us today," Hope said, "We're all going out to a small watering hole Taehyung knows about."

You smiled, "That sounds great."

•••

You all walked through the grove of trees, you even passed the oak tree and smiled sadly. You eventually came upon the watering hole, it was too large to be considered a pond but too small to be a lake. Everyone stood admiring it for a second then Ashlee was suddenly thrown in. When she resurfaced She looked straight at Yoongi who had a devious smirk on his lips. He took off his shirt, throwing it aside before jumping in.

He was followed by Jimin and Emma, then Jungkook and Namjoon. They all splashed around playing in the water, You smiled at them from the bank where you sat on a conveniently fallen log.

"You not getting in?" You turned noticing Hoseok had taken a seat next to you.

"No, I'm just gonna watch."

"Is something wrong y/n?"

"Not really, I just wish Seokjin could be here with us." You told him.

"I understand," He chuckled, "we'll see him tonight at supper." He reassured me.

You talked with Hoseok as the others continued to crying out with laughter as they swam around the cool water. Hoseok and you laughed too as you watched Jungkook belly flop into the water. Being with your friends helped you keep your mind off of the fact that Seokjin was not with you.

The hours slipped passed as the sun moved lower. Causing the sky to become almost orange and the leaves of the aspen trees that surrounded the area to turn almost golden from the sheen of the sun. Everyone had been out of the water for a while now and you just talked and ate food that Jungkook and Namjoon stole from the kitchen.

"We should be heading back soon, supper is in 30 minutes." Hoseok said after checking his watch, Everyone agreed, gathering their things. The walk back was a joyful one, the boys all laughed as Ashlee, Emma, Hope and You sang Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree by The Andrews Sisters.

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, Anyone else but me, anyone else but me, NO NO NO!" You giggled as you sang.

"They're good, don't you think Seokjin?" You heard Hoseok say his name.

"Wonderful." You heard his voice and smiled large before turning around, and sure enough he was there.

"When did you get here?"

"I was at the tree, but you didn't notice me." You only giggled and hugged him.

You held his hand the rest of the way back, you got back to the school you and seokjin were the last ones outside. You went to let go of his hand but he tightened his hold, you gave a questioning look to his conflicted features.

"Meet me in the tower after supper alright?" He asked with a weak smile.

"Of course, is something wrong?" You began to grow worried of his answer.

"Everythings fine." He kissed your forehead before he finally let go of your hand.

Everyone already had their food and were talking, well arguing. Jungkook seemed to be fighting everyone about something.

"Alright, lets ask y/n and Seokjin." Jungkook gestured to us as we sat at the table.

"Ask us what?" You asked.

"Who do you think ."

"You only drink banana milk and the chefs cook your meal of chicken strips or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich separately just for you." Yoongi stated. Jungkook just huffed and continued to eat his chicken.

Seokjin went off somewhere, you were distracted by your friends messing around in the common room. Your brain then hastily reminded you of what Seokjin had said and you hurriedly slipped from the room. You snuck off to the stairwell which your scurried to the top of, only to find Seokjin leaning against the singular desk he usually studied at. A record player played soft jazz music, your eyes lingered to the floor next to the desk which was littered with pillows and blankets, you bit your lip.

"I didn't forget." You said quickly.

"It's alright y/n, you're here now." He had pushed himself from the desk and now stood closer to you. His eyes were sad, the same as earlier.

"What's the matter Seokjin?" You stroked his arm comfortingly.

"I've been called, to the front lines." There was a deafening silence that not even the music could break, you swore your heart had stopped at his words. You shook your head not wanting to believe him, it was as if your world had shattered.

You stepped away, turning so your back was all he could see. You didn't want him to see how this was effecting you.

"Y/n, please, I've been planning this all day." You felt his hands on your waist, wanting to give into his touch. He turned you around before you could even register what had happened, and his lips where on yours. You melted instantly at the contact but quickly pulled away.

"Don't. Don't you dare kiss me if you're not going to come back." Your voice shook as the tears threatened to spill. He kissed you again, passion over flowing before slowly pulling away to look you straight in the eyes.

"I'll be coming back, there's no need to fret."

After he spoke you two had found yourselves hastily removing clothing before rustling around in the mess of blankets and pillows. Trying to initiate every stimulus of pleasure on your most sensitive areas.

The soft music encouraged you as it's notes harmonized with the moans and the beat went along with each stroke that was made. To say the least it was magical, only the pale glow of the moon guided you, showing every important detail whilst the rest lay cast in shadows. The glistening of sweat on your foreheads, the heaving of heavy chests hard at work, the loving eyes all captured by the moon. A snap shot forever locked in your heads and the moon.

As you stood wrapped in a blanket staring out at the moon and the dark sky, a questioned burned in your head. You turned your head slightly as to look the love of your life as he pulled his trousers back on. You looked back out the window before speaking.

"When do you leave?" You wanted to know, you had to.

"Tomorrow evening." He informed you wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your bare shoulder, "But I plan to spend every last second I have, with you." His hot breath cascaded across your collarbone and a chill ran across your skin.

"I'll miss you more than words can say." You whispered to him. You both stayed in the position, hearing the hum of a plane go over head.

Neither of them knew what to think as the roof to their left was broken. The object continued on before there was a loud explosion, the tower that many thought was vacant and had been for years, came collapsing to the earth. The calculations had been done wrong, the bombs were dropped too soon; and two young bodies were the proof of it. It was fast, they didn't linger their souls had been spared the pain, they didn't even have the time to think or utter a word before their lives were brought to an abrupt end.

They didn't know they would die that night, they didn't know their bodies would lay amongst the rubble of the tower were they had stood moments before their deaths, were their story together began. Though they died satisfied, in the grasp of the person they loved, in 1942.

[julemmaes]

My saviour

“I’m the kid who never pays attention in class and you’re the one who always gives me the answer when the teacher calls on me” AU

A Matthew Fairchild and Lucie Herondale Modern Day School AU

Okay this is the very first time I write something like this, but I really enjoyed writing it, so if you’d like to read more (because for some insane reasons you liked my writing) let me know and feel free to send me a ship and a prompt. It could be anything from shadowhunters to acotar to tog.

If you find any mistakes in the language PLEASE LET ME KNOW, because as you can say from my bio, English is not my first language and I’d really appreciate constructive criticism.

That’s all, now go enjoy Matthew being a dork:)

Word count: 2,994

“Mr Fairchild? Perhaps you would like to be escorted to Miss Fray’s classroom? Perhaps you would draw in a more comfortable position.”

Matthew’s head snapped at the name of his favorite art teacher. He sat up straight, realizing that the gaze of twenty boys was fixed on him. He smiled at the teacher, putting the pencil on the desk and shrugging, “No Miss Wrayburn. I was listening, I am so interested in your lectures that sometimes I get lost in historical stories and I like to illustrate them.” He ended with a sly smile, resting his chin on his hands. Miss Wrayburn, noted for her severity as a history teacher, smiled in return, placing her book on the chair and crossing her arms on the chest.

“So if I asked you what happened between June 19th and 20th, 1944 in the Pacific you would be able to answer me?” She asked her and smiled at him with the same sarcasm. Matthew began to sweat: he had already brought home two very bad grades that week, if he brought a third one, his mother Charlotte would surely have sent him to a private school, and it would have been a suicide. Think Math, think. 1944, World War II, Japan, Roosevelt. His thoughts were interrupted by the small voice of the girl beside him, “The Battle of the Philippine Sea”, whispered with one hand in front of her mouth to avoid being seen by the teacher. Matthew stilled on the chair, before coughing and repeating what his classmate had just suggested. Wrayburn seemed surprised and tilting her head asked him one more question, but he had completely lost the thread.

The girl who sat next to him was beautiful. A stunning beauty. The locks of dark brown hair fell on her shoulders like waves and surrounded her delicate white face. The eyes of a pale blue were moving frantically, looking first at him and then at the blackboard, where the teacher was writing three important events of the war between the USA and Japan. He collected himself, looking again at the girl, before the teacher called him one more time, asking him to put into chronological order the battles she just wrote down. He answered quietly with the help of the girl and when Wrayburn considered it sufficient enough not to put a bad grade, going back to explain to the class, Matthew could finally bask in the beauty sitting next to him.

Her writing was so delicate and at the same time… ferocious. Yes, he was going to describe it as ferocious, as if writing were something that she did very often and gladly. Plus, she seemed to be writing down everything the teacher said, without missing a single thing. He wanted to introduce himself, but he didn’t know how to do it without disturbing her. Because she looked like the kind of student who would bite your head off if she lost the theacher’s train of thoughts.

He looked around again for the answer, as if looking at the door or at thewindow, the idea would appear in front of him. And that’s exaclty what happened.

He took a blank piece of paper and started scribbling something. The design took shape and a golden retriver appeared (which tremendously reminded Matthew of Mr Oscar Wilde, his dog) with a blonde hair like his and a sparkling green leash. Satisfied with his work he made a small cartoon over the dog that said “Pleased to meet you, I’m Matthew, but you can call me Math. Thanks for the rescue, could you help me with one last question I absolutely need to know the answer to cause my school career could be at risk if I don’t?”

He moved slightly away from the desk to see the final result and nodded smugly, bent the paper in two, before sliding it slowly towards the girl’s desk. As expected, she did not pay him much attention before the ringing of the bell and even after, as she collected all her things and put them quickly in the bag, she didn’t notice the drawing, putting it together with the rest of her notes. Matthew was about to walk to her and ask her what her name was in person, but as soon as he got up, he found himself in front of Thomas Lightwood, his lifelong best friend and the kindest person he knew. He passed him without ceremony to see if the girl was always in the class, but by now the only ones left were the two of them and the students of the next class were already entering and sitting at the desks.

He snorted taking his stuff and starting to walk next to Tom, headed to the science lab. An nudge from his friend made him turn his head in his direction, eyebrow raised as a question.

“Don’t make that face, you haven’t lost her. She’s with us in science. Has been for years actually.” he said putting his arm around him. Thomas was almost twenty centimeters taller than him, he was close to two meters, and he was huge. Last summer, he had put on more muscle mass than he liked to admit, and it had gotten even bigger.

“I wasn’t thinking I lost her, I just wanted to know her name. She saved my ass earlier, I could always buy her a coffee, you know, to thank her.” He reached his locker, trying to end the conversation, but Thomas didn’t feel the same way, “Sure, and Kit doesn’t blow up his house at least three times a week”; he giggled at his own joke before bringing a hand to scratch his neck. “Although, I have to be honest, I’d like to see you on a date with Jesse Blackthorn’s girlfriend.”

Matthew snorted posing the never-used book of history, and taking the unharmed one of science. Obviously she had a boyfriend. And of course it had to be Jesse fucking Blackthorn. Turning to Tom with a whipped dog face, he asked him if he was joking.

“Oh no, not at all. They’ve been together for a while, but like, just two years, and the fact that you don’t know they’re together is worrying. The whole school knows this.” he answered him as soon as they arrived at Thomas' locker, where the same ritual was repeated for the billionth time.

“I have to remind you that I don’t really give a shit about the people who are in this building or do I have to connect the dots for you?” Math asked leaning against the wall again. He was dead tired and they were only at the second hour. Thinking he was gonna stay in that place till four o'clock got his stomach twisted.

Thomas laughed and the conversation ended there. They saw Christopher outside the chemistry labs, tinkering with giant tomes and test tubes, while Mr Fairchild, Matthew’s father, tried to help him as much as he could without dropping anything. They didn’t have the time to get close enough that from inside the classroom someone was shouting and they both rushed to rescue anyone who had made two wrong substances react.

Tom and Math entered the biology classroom, taking place in the second-to-last row. A few minutes later the girl of history class entered. She sat down at the desk behind Matthew’s, who was about to turn around when the teacher came in, blocking his every initiative. The lesson began immediately and the boy could hear her pen running fast on the paper. He took out the necessary to draw and got lost in his world again and again and again. Until Tom hit him on the arm and he turned to his friend, asking what the hell he wanted.

“What the hell do I want? Well, Mr Fairchild, if you answer this question correctly, I might consider not failing you at my subject.” He couldn’t believe it. Not again. Matthew turned slowly to the teacher, reducing his lips to a thin line, waiting for the question that would end his life.

“If the function of ribosomes is selectively blocked in a cell, what do you immediately stop, Mr Fairchild?” Professor fade asked severely. He was ready to say that no one in that cabbage class would know the answer, but the voice of his guardian angel was as clear as light behind his back, “The translation.”

“The translation, professor.”

“Translation of what, Matthew?”

“Of RNA,”; she told him, once more.

“Of RNA, sir.” he nodded, seemed convinced of what he was saying, and sighed with relief when the lesson resumed undisturbed. He turned slightly, smiling at the girl from above his shoulder. She was staring at him and in her left hand, reaching out to him, she was holding a folded piece of paper. He took it without the teacher noticing and opened it discreetly. In the corner of his eye he saw Thomas trying to spy on what was written on the paper.

When he saw it was his drawing, his chest swelled. Next to her dog there now was a little blue bird, with her wings folded on her hips, so she looked angry. It wasn’t as pretty as his dog, and it looked like it had been drawn in a hurry, but it was very cute, and above it the inscription “What, do I have to save you again?” was clear in her perfect handwriting.

He had to refrain from laughing, because the drawing was most likely done right after the history lesson, so this would be the third time that Matthew needed to be saved.

He started drawing again, this time making a kitten trying to catch the bird from below, with the phrase “Don’t worry, this is quite simple. What’s your name?” He could have easily asked Thomas and he would have answered him in less than a second. When he put his arm back and felt that the paper was being taken from his hand, he smiled, beginning to mind his own business once again. Only when the bell announcing the end of classes rang did he realize that the only color he had used during that time was blue.

“My name is Lucie, Lucie Herondale. But you can call me Luce.” He saw a thin, pale hand appear in his field of vision, and he almost jumped out of the chair. He raised his head and shook her hand. He smiled in the only way he knew, with his dazzling charm, and when he spoke, the voice came out like a shrill sound, “I am-” he coughed several times, while Lucie giggled and there, behind her, was Thomas, eyes wide open, holding a hand to his mouth to avoid bursting into laughter, “You’re Matthew, yeah, I already know.” she smiled at him.

“Yeah, yeah. The dog. It’s mine. I thought it’d be cute and wanted to thank you for all these rescues. My mother would kill me if she found out that I didn’t study anything and I-” he was interrupted by the voice of someone who had just appeared on the classroom door. A boy as tall as him, with black hair and the eyes of a spooky, pungent green, was extending his hand toward her, while with the other one he was balancing himself on the door, “Lulu let’s go, Jamie and Grace are waiting for us in front of your locker.” He looked away from her to Matthew and vice versa a couple of times before smiling shily at the two boys.

Lucie turned to Jesse Blackthorn and with a movement of her head made him understand that she would be there in a minute.

“Of course, there’s no problem. I’d rather help people than see them fail.” she said turning to Math again, “See you in class, I guess.” She smiled at him one last time and, putting her hands in her pockets, went out, following her boyfriend into the crowded hallway.

Matthew remained with his waving hand raised in the air until Thomas' laugh awoke him from his trance. He looked at his friend, pushed him sideways to pass him, and unceremoniously he told him to fuck off.

“C’mon Math. It was ridiculous. Pathetic. Humiliating. I can laugh sometimes, right?”

“Why? With me you don’t laugh enough?” Christopher asked by appearing at Thomas' side out of nowhere.

“Jesus Kit, where did you come from?” said Thomas bringing a hand to his chest.

“From the chemistry lab, of course. By the way, Math,” he said addressing the blond one, “your father wanted to know if you’d eat at home tonight and I told him we were going out. Cause we do go, right? It is Friday and tomorrow mom and dad won’t be here, so I can go back anytime I want tonight.” Thomas was already nodding, starting to think in his little head the worst ways to risk their lives. Matthew was trying so hard not to think about Lucie Herondale, and that kept him from not being able to do so.

What an idiot he was. And that sound? Where did that voice come from? He was sure she was telling her perfect boyfriend right now how this dumb classmate who didn’t know shit had trouble controlling his fucking vocal cords.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours?” Anna Lightwood. Thomas' cousin and Christopher’s sister, but also Matthew’s faithful friend, was dressed exactly like him that day, which made her pout, “Classy. But I have to say that they look better on me.” she smiled widely, taking him and Kit arm in arm, and heading for the next lesson.

Luckily, Matthew thought, we all have art together. That was his hour of leisure, even though he normally did nothing different, but at least he would get compliments from Miss Fray, or how he called her, Clary. He had met his art teacher outside the school, in fact it was he who had told her that their old teacher would retire and that there was a vacant chair. They had become close friends during a painting course and when he met her at school he had felt nothing but immense happiness.

“Our Matthew impressed some cute girl today.” said Thomas in the tone of someone who’s been around. Anna suddenly stopped in the hallway, staring at him with gaping mouth.

“And let’s hear, who would be the lucky one?” she asked, again walking. Christopher seemed interested, too, but not as much as his sister, who looked like a child on Christmas morning.

“Nobody.” answered Matthew at the same time as Thomas said, “Lucie Herondale.”

“Are you kidding? But you know he’s with Blackthorn, right?” She asked him in astonishment, as she glared him, as if he were the only fool in the world who did not know which couples were in this stupid school.

“Yes I know, and I didn’t impress, we just talked because she saved my ass a couple of times.”

They continued to speak even after entering the art lab and even during the lesson. Matthew was surprised when he noticed that the teacher pretended not to listen when she passed by them, but that she tended her ear to eavesdrop better.

The next lesson would be that of literature, without any of his friends, and thinking of having to spend a whole hour without Tom or Kit made him feel sick, but maybe today he could do it. A rest hour after all the comments and jokes Thomas made would have done him good.

He sat at the usual place and with a pleasant surprise noticed that on the other side of the class was Lucie. She was chatting with a redheaded girl who had little dark skin. Matthew remembered she was one of the newcomers and that she had a particular name, Carla… Carlotta perhaps. Consuela.

He began to stare at his hands with a thoughtful glare.

How was it possible that in all those years he had never noticed her? How was it possible that they had so many classes in common that they never spoke? He looked up once more to look at her and noticed that she had moved into the desk next to his and her friend sat right in front of her. He greeted them both with a broad smile.

“Hey Math, this is Cordelia. She’s from Paris. Cordelia, this is Matthew.” He smiled at him and Matthew’s world was once again a little happier.

“I’m actually from London, but I’ve been living in Paris for the last five years.” Cordelia explained before paying attention to Miss Loss, who had just entered. A strange fellow, Catarina Loss.

She had the skin of a cadaveric white, and the hair was of a sky blue so bright that sometimes Matthew would get lost staring at them by how much it was intense.

He heard a comment from Lucie about his memory-loss episodes and laughed silently, starting to scribble on the desk.

Twenty minutes passed before the obvious happened, “Fairchild, who wrote Songs of Innocence and Experience?” They can’t be serious, Matthew looked briefly in Lucie’s direction and she giggled before miming with her lips Wlliam Blake. Matthew almost laughed when he began to speak, but after that the teacher immediately left him alone. Cordelia also seemed amused, because she looked at him from above her shoulder smiling and returning to the reading shortly after.

He stared at Lucie, and thought that if anyone saw him they would think he was a pervert, because she turned to him, probably due to the intensity with which he was looking at her, and smiled at him.

Perhaps, to surprise her, he would start studying, so the responsibility would not fall on her alone, but in that moment, Matthew thought, it was enough to have his saviour by his side and everything would be fine.

Please leave a comment, even if you didn't like it, cause it would mean the world to me

[silverlysilence]

There Are Multiple Kinds of Heroes

Because @fabllama02 asked what i meant about having a superhero outline saved somewhere in the mass abyss of my many USB backups which as fun little jotted down notes session between the mass writing project that is Heart of a Dragon’s Soul.

Took me awhile to find it (an hour, it took me an hour to find it, someone better like this with how much time it took to find) and then I flushed it out a little bit more so it wasn’t just X Says: Dialogue and Action: This Happened, there were feels.  I never really got around to writing an ending, so that was thought up on the spot.  Now go see what I mean when I said I had something similar jotted down and you tell me if I’m imagining you and @spyritevesta somehow looking into my computer.

Hiccup glanced over his shoulder once more, looking towards the back of the classroom where there was a suspiciously empty desk.  His frown deepened and he glanced back down at his watch.  Ten minutes into the final period of the day and an hour more to go till school ended.  He was positive he was here.  He’d caught glimpses of the other teen around school today, but he hadn’t been able to pin him down and now, the only class he knew they had together and the desk was empty.

Another glance back had him unintentionally knocking his book off the desk and clattered loudly against the tile flooring, cutting off the teacher mid-lecture.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Haddock?” the velvety voice asked, eyes peering over spectacles to look down at the teen now blushing a bright red as the other students around him snickered.

“Fi-fine Professor Black,” Hiccup stuttered and reached down to grab his book, discreetly looking back yet again to find amber eyes glaring at him.

“Really now? Then please, do pick up where we left off after your little interruption,” the professor motioned to the book and Hiccup quickly flipped through the pages and landed on the last page he’d been on.  However, by the look Professor Black was giving him, it was the wrong page.  “Mr. Haddock, please, go on.”

“I-uh-I lost my spot?”

“So I see, Mr. Overland, if you would be so kind?” golden eyes continued to stare down at the auburn-haired teen shrinking further into his seat.

“If this fall into thy hand, revolve.  In my stars, I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness.  Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ‘em.  Thy Fates open their hands.  Let thy blood and spirit embrace them.  And—,” the silvery voice drifted through the room, from the back corner of the class.

“Thank you, Mr. Overland, that will be all. At least someone is paying attention in my class,” the professor nodded, turning to face the blackboard.  “Now, does anyone want to tell me—?”

Hiccup once more drowned out the lesson, looking back to see messy brown hair leaning over his desk as he diligently took notes.  If he didn’t know any better, the auburn-haired teenager would assume the other had been there the whole time with the mess of papers, pens, pencils, and books scattered about the desk but he did know better.  He knew that desk had been suspiciously empty up until moments prior.

Grinding his teeth, Hiccup divided his time between watching the clock move closer till the end of school and glancing back to make sure the brunet was still there.  His knee nervously bouncing the closer the bell came and when it rang, he was already out of his seat, indifferently shoving his stuff into his bag and turning toward the back of the classroom.  In the chaos of the other students’ attempts to escape just as quickly, he’d lost sight of the particular head of messy brown hair, but it didn’t matter. His desk was closest to the door, the other couldn’t excite without passing him.

Yet…

As the classroom empty and thinned, vivid green eyes found himself lost.  There was no sign of the particular brand of messy hair he was searching for in the classroom.  Cursing, Hiccup scurried out the door into the larger sea of chaos as students rushed to their lockers or stood around chatting now school was over for the day.  He had to push his way through, using his height to his advantage as he scanned the crowd.

Hiccup just passed the art room when something grabbed him from behind and yanked him into the dark room.  The door slamming with a resounding echo that had his ears ringing.  Or it could have been from his head slamming up against the wall as he was shoved back, feet leaving the floor.

“What do you want, Haddock?”

Hiccup gaped, staring down at the shorter teen so easily supporting his weight with a deceitfully slim arm braced against his chest. He had been right. The traitorous thought that swam through his head, filling every waking moment to the point of distraction was right.  The facts and logic he’d thought up as proof to the contrary washed away as the color washed from brown locks while amber eyes bleed blue. There was no way he could convince himself his eyes were playing tricks on him this time.

“You’re Jack Frost.”

Hiccup nearly cringed at his display of stupidity.  Of course he was Jack Frost! The smaller teen’s coloring had just changed before his very eyes and even with only the fuzzy, out of focused videos and pictures circulating the internet, everyone knew Jack Frost had blue eyes and white hair.  Not to mention his only confirmed power being ice manipulation and there was no denying the frosty ferns currently climbing up his leather jacket.

For Christ’s sake, that very ice manipulation was how he got his moniker.  The netizens had dubbed him Jack Frost—well, there had been other names floating around the net, ranging from Winter’s General to Yuki-onna when his gender had still been in question but Jack Frost had won out in the end—which rolled over into mainstream media when the superhero—or vigilante, depending who you were talking to—made his official debut other than the small-time neighborhood thugs being taken down or timely rescues when the Big Four were once more facing off against the Nightmare Galleon.  

It was hard to miss a figure in a blue hoodie creating a ramp of ice down onto a solid flat sheet of frozen water as a bus full of children cantering down after him.  The bus’s blown tire having sent it skidded through the guardrails and off the bridge at the worst time possible.  If it wasn’t for the ramp and sheet of ice in the middle of summer, the bus would have sunk.

“I am well aware you saw me last night, Haddock,” harsh tone had Hiccup cringed, “now tell me what you want to keep that information to yourself?  Money?”

“Wha--? NO!” Hiccup denied, shaking his head as suspicious blue eyes narrowed further. The smaller teen opened his mouth again, but this time Hiccup beat him to it.  “I—ah—I just wanted…I—uh…”

“Well, out with it, Haddock, what do you want?”

“I don’t—”

Once more Hiccup was interrupted, this time by the door opening and the familiar voice of his stepbrother. echoing throughout the large room  “Hiccup? Are you there?  One of the other students said they saw you heading this way.”

Hiccup founding himself falling to the floor, prosthetic sliding on the tile and he was forced to catch himself on the teacher’s desk.  When he looked up, he found himself alone in the room except for Tadashi Hamada standing in the doorway, hand still on the knob.  A wild look around the room revealed nothing.  Nothing out of place and no one else in the classroom, even the frost on his jacket was gone.

“You okay, little bro?” Tadashi asked, brown eyes slowly sweeping the room.

“Uh—yeah, fine… completely fine.  I—ah, just need to finish something up first with this—thing I have to do.  Why don’t you go get Hiro?  He’s around here somewhere, right? We’ll meet up later?” Hiccup offered, doing his best to act normal and hoping against hope his older stepbrother would buy it.  Brown eyebrows knitted together under his San Fransokyo Ninjas ball-cap but the concern was wiped off his face with a shrug.

“Sure, sounds like a plan, Hiccup,” Tadashi grinned and left without further ado, closing the door behind him.

Hiccup let out a deep breath and turned to face the room.  All the windows were closed, painted shut from what he remembered when he’d tried to open one early in the semester and the emergency alarm on the secondary door reserved for fires hadn’t been triggered either. So where did he go?  There was no way he could have gotten by Tadashi.

“You didn’t say anything,” the white-haired hero stated as he materialized before Hiccup’s very eyes. A second undocumented ability Jack Frost had that the taller teen was now aware of. Because there was no doubt in his mind the smaller teen had some type of super strength with the ease he’d displayed lifting Hiccup.

“I didn’t,” Hiccup agreed, noticing the lack of hostility in those shimmering blue orbs.

“You could have,” Jack Frost pointed out, weaving around the easels, coming closer.  “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I wouldn’t do that,” the auburn-haired teen said and he was being  honest.    

“So, you’ll keep silent in return for—?” Jack Frost left the sentence hanging and the taller teen was a hair’s breadth away from pulling out his hair in frustration.  

“Don’t you get it? Hiccup finally snapped, causing blue eyes to narrow as the smaller teen tensed.  “I won’t—” the auburn-haired teen trailed off, notice how the pallor of Jack Frost’s skin was more chalky than normal and the blues of those orbs were more noticeable as his pupils were barely pinpricks.  “Ar-are you okay?”

It was only then he noticed how the other boy’s left hand had never strayed from his side, not at all during class nor during this whole interrogation thing.  It had stayed pressed up against his side and warning bells went off in Hiccup’s head.

“Shite, you were fighting the Nightmare Men Gang last night,” Hiccup rushed to his side, just in time too as knees buckled and gave out.  The taller teen easily supported his weight, gently lowering him down to lean up against the teacher’s desk.  He began tugging at the blue hoodie—and when had he changed?  Because that was not what he’d been wearing in class—and pulled up the side to reveal a large gash encased in red-tinged ice.  “What the fuck?  How?  I never even saw any for the Nightmare Men Gang get close enough to you…”

“Not them, Dream Pirates…few…few nights ago,” Jack Frost gritted out, placing his hand over the ice where blood began trickling out and froze the red beads in their tracks.  

“Stop that!” Hiccup yanked his hand away, trying to get a better look at the wound through the distortion caused by the very ice keeping him from bleeding out further.  He was no doctor, but the blackish hue of the skin beneath the ice spoke of frostbite or something else entirely more sinister if the wound had been inflicted by a Dream Pirate’s blade. His mind whirled as he further studied Jack Frost, his pupils now blown wide and a blue tinge to his lips.  “Fuck, shite, motherfucking—” he wasn’t the one obsessed with medical care that was— “Tadashi!—shite!—Tadashi!—Fuck—where did—?”

“Hiccup!” Tadashi—sweet, wonderful, smart—Tadashi slid to his side as if he were a San Fransokyo Ninjas player sliding across home plate.

“How—?” Hiccup choked, looking up at his brother.

“Outside the door this whole time, couldn’t hear much of anything till you began shouting but knew something was up because you and I both know fully well, Hiro doesn’t go either of our school,” Tadashi flashed him a reassuring smile that didn’t do anything to reassure Hiccup before turning his attention on the white-haired teen bleeding out despite his brother’s best efforts.  “Now, tell me what happened to your frie—Jack Frost…this is Jack Frost.”

“Yes! I know he is Jack Frost, now help him before he bleeds out!”

“Shite,” and if it were any other time, Hiccup’s jaw would be on the ground because nice, polite, always composed Tadashi had just cussed.  But now wasn’t the time for such trivial heckling between brothers.

“Again, I know, now help him.”

“I can’t, not here.  I need my lab,” the university student grimaced, shedding his scarf and hastily wrapping it around the wound.  “Is there another way out of here, somewhere where we won’t be seen?”

“Not…not seen,” Jack Frost barely whispered as he slowly began to disappear from sight once more. It was a little patchy and if Hiccup wasn’t still holding on to him, he would have thought the other was gone.

“He disappeared,” Tadashi spoke with that hint to his voice that all the brothers got when they’re brains latched onto something they found interesting.  Unlike his younger brothers, Tadashi was able to snap himself out of it with a shake of his head.  “Come on, Hiccup.  Think you can carry him?”

“Yeah, but it’ll look weird,” Hiccup professed, having only the slightest of trouble picking Jack Frost up and that was more due to the invisibility thing than having to support his weight. True to his word, the auburn-haired teen looked awkward, almost as if he was miming holding onto something substantial with nothing to show for it.

“Don’t worry, most of the students have already left and I’ll distract anyone still here, you just worry about getting him to the car,” Tadashi ordered, grabbing the door and looking both ways before motioning for him to follow.  

Thankfully, they had no troubles along the way and by whatever miracle, no cops pulled them over due to Tadashi’s reckless driving.  There was a bit of trouble getting into San Fransokyo Institute of Technology undetected and Dr. Callaghan almost caught them, but the real problem became getting Jack Frost visible again.

He only partially returned to visibility and the part still invisible were his wounds because the hero didn’t just have the one gash on his side.  Tadashi speculated he was subconsciously trying to protect himself since he seemed to be slipping in and out of a delirious state.  Baymax—and fuck, Hiccup didn’t realize just how close Tadashi was to being finished with his personal healthcare companion—was invaluable in detecting and synthesizing an antidote for the poison flowing through the hero’s veins

Once that was done, the ice seemed to fall away from Jack Frost’s wounds allowing Tadashi to clean and stitching them up before wrapping them with large rolls of gauze.  When they were finished, the two brothers fell into the couch as Baymax stayed close to monitored the unconscious hero.

“You don’t do anything by halves, do you, little bro?” Tadashi tiredly asked, head resting against the armrest as he gazed up at the ceiling.

“Huh?  Whadda mean?”

“Crushing on a superhero is one thing, bringing said hero back home to your brother to bandage up is completely different.  Why couldn’t you just go on crushing on that one kid?  What was his name again?  Jackson something or another?”

Because, Hiccup thought to himself, they were the same person.

Not that he’d tell anyone else that, not even his brother, because that’s what he’d been trying to get across to the hero all along.  He would never reveals his secret identity.  There was no amount of money in the world that could part his lips.  

Though, now asking out the cute brunet from his literature class seemed a thousand times more difficult than it did yesterday when he saw Jackson crossing into the lower town and decided to trying to strike up a conversation with him.  

Huh, this was only a thousand word outline (I don’t outline well) and now it’s twice that.  Then again, the last page was me trying to come up with an ending on the fly.  

[rainandhotchocolate]

Tension - Part 3

A/N Hello all! Here is part 3 to Tension :)) It’s a bit of a filler but I promise there is more sirius time coming hehe enjoy!

~~~~~

Remus was released from the hospital wing three days later, though his curtains remained closed throughout the time he spent there, in case anyone noticed him missing each evening.

Y/N leaned against the doorway to the hospital wing, her hands tucked into her sleeves to avoid the cool breeze that was drifting in through the windows. Fresh air my ass, Madame P she thought, her teeth beginning to chatter.

“You ready, Remmy?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Remus said the most clichéd thing he could think of, stepping out from behind the curtains and giving her finger guns.

“Ready to gorge yourself on pumpkin pie?”

“Yep, just need Pomfrey to sign me out.”

“Ugh, she always takes 3 years.”

“Yeah well you better make yourself scarce, we don’t need her knowing that you know that –“

“Yeah I know, don’t worry. I’ll meet you at the Great Hall,” Y/N shot him a grin, “Better hurry though I’m also craving mashed potatoes.”

“So help me merlin, if there’s no mash left I will forget to go into the shack next month,” Remus teased, his eyes narrowing. Y/N winked at him, turning away to walk towards the smell of roast wafting towards her from the Great Hall.

Remus met her at the Slytherin table 20 minutes later, his face flushed from the cold wind coming in from the front doors, squishing himself in between Y/N and Olivia Greengrass who had been telling Y/N about the fight that had broken out the night before between Severus and Lucius.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Snape that determined to stand up to him, he must really have a thing for that Gryffindor girl.”

“Man, I wished I could have seen that,” Y/N shook her head at Olivia, giving Remus a smile as he sat down.

“Seen what?”

“Apparently Severus and Lucius had a little tiff last night over his friendship with Lily going against their pureblood manifesto,” Olivia had dropped her voice at the last few words, clearly worried they might be overheard teasing the self-proclaimed death eaters and their ever terrifying views on the blood traitors throughout Hogwarts.

“Doing the right thing for once at least,” Remus reasoned, scooping heaps of mashed potatoes, green beans, broccoli, and lamb onto his plate.

“I don’t know if sparing one muggle-born for being pretty is exactly doing the right thing,” Y/N murmured, grimacing.

“Either way, I’m very sure Lucius nearly hit him, but it seems that Severus has a little more hold over him than we expected,” Olivia leaned in again, clearly loving how Y/N and Remus were lapping in the gossip.

“Well, that certainly is new information.”

“Yeah, I wonder if perhaps our theory about – ahem – youknowwho” Olivia looked around momentarily before speaking the name almost too fast for Y/N to understand it.

“Hardly a theory, Liv,” Y/N snorted, “You were at the last fun ol’ purebloods ball, Bellatrix was basically gripping onto his arm for dear life.”

“Let’s keep hoping he isn’t recruiting 16-year olds, can we?” Remus sighed, still scooping large buttery spoonfuls of mash into his mouth. Y/N gave him a sour look but changed the subject regardless, asking Liv whether she was still dating the Yaxley boy in the year above.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning felt like a blur. Remus was energetic for the first time in a week and had made her quiz him the whole way down to breakfast and in between their Potions and Transfiguration classes.

“Ok, how do you duplicate an object,” Y/N placed her bag behind the wooden chair at the front of the class, where Remus preferred to sit for his favourite class with Professor McGonagall.

“Geminio, but you need to focus on the size in order to ensure that it doesn’t shrink or enlarge when duplicated,” Remus reeled off, grinning a little superiorly at Y/N, “Gotta have something a little harder than that.”

“You quiz yourself then,” Y/N grumbled, taking a seat and pulling out her books as Professor McGonagall began writing across the blackboard.

“With OWLs coming up and career sessions with your head of house this week, the other professors and I have decided that it would be a good idea to start increasing some inter-house comradery. To do this, we will be putting you all into groups of four, with two houses in each, to compete together for a common goal – completing the best project across the core classes.” Professor McGonagall watched them all closely from behind her glasses as if daring someone to complain.

“Will there be a prize?” Sirius called out, elbowing James in the ribs with excitement.

“Can we choose our team members?” James followed turning around to wink at a very annoyed looking redhead that Y/N recognised as Lily Evans, James’ obsession.

“I would feel sorry for Lily if she wasn’t beating you in every class,” Y/N whispered to Remus, sniggering when he shot her a look.

“Since you, four seem to be so excited about this project, why don’t you become my first group,” Professor McGonagall spoke sharply, but Y/N was sure there was a twinkle in her eye. Regardless, Y/N felt her shoulders droop, and Remus’ tense beside her, obviously remembering their reaction to his affliction a few nights ago.

“Keep your enemies closer right?” Y/N muttered to Remus who was taking deep calming breaths, staring at the place where McGonagall had begun writing names up on the blackboard.

“What if they tell people? They looked ready to attack me if I hadn’t passed out.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hex them so hard they’ll not leave the Hospital Wing for several weeks if they so much as make a joke about it.”

“I can’t not worry, they –”

“Are not worth your time. We just need to get through this project and can go back to ignoring them ok? If anything I bet we will end up doing it all ourselves.”

Remus seemed to calm at that, but with the full moon’s effects still very present within him Y/N couldn’t help but grip his hand tightly under the table.

“Can all groups please now introduce each other? We will be explaining the tasks this afternoon once they are finalised.”

Remus and Y/N turned to face Sirius and James who were gathering their things to join them at the front of the classroom.

“So, team full moon at it again!” James grinned down at the two of them, throwing his bag carelessly on the floor beside them.

“Can you please shut up for one second, Potter,” Y/N rolled her eyes at him, hoping her expression gave an air of annoyance.

“Oh, last name basis, we’ve been downgraded,” Sirius pouted, bobbing down so that he could place his two arms across their desks and lean his head over his hands.

“Can we please just organise a time to meet about this project,” Remus said exasperatedly, pulling out his diary and pen, watching them expectantly.

“Alright, I have Quidditch practise Mondays and Wednesdays, and potentially Sunday nights if Prewett has another panic attack before the semi’s.”

“I’ve got practice Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Y/N bit her lip, looking apologetically over at Remus.

“Well I’ve just got tutoring on Mondays,” Remus hummed, writing the dates down with a furrowed brow.

“And we can’t do the next two Fridays,” Sirius elbowed James who was about to protest and shut up quickly. Y/N opened her mouth to ask why but Remus cut her off.

“Ok, whatever, so that leaves Saturdays to work on this thing.”

“Or we could just do this separately and combine at the end?” Y/N smiled hopefully but saw McGonagall narrow her eyes at them from the front of the classroom.

“I expect better than that from you Ms Malfoy.”

“Yes, Professor,” Y/N mumbled, turning back to the page Remus had used to write down all their commitments.

“We definitely don’t want McGonagall thinking poorly of us,” James winked again, this time at Y/N who scowled.

“Well, I don’t know how we are going to get this done on one day with all our other work.”

“Why don’t we split it up between us – Y/N and me will do some on Mondays and Remus and James can meet on Thursdays? Then if we have anything to add we can hang on Saturdays, even though I’d much rather be in Hogsmeade,” Sirius had stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder as if anticipating McGonagall’s dismissal of the class.

“It’s not even a Hogsmeade weekend,” Remus huffed, closing his diary, “But yes ok that sounds ok.”

“It’s not Hogsmeade weekend for you maybe,” Sirius waggled his eyebrows, “Great, Y/N I’ll meet you in the library after dinner on Monday.”

“Great,” Y/N forced a smile, picking up the rest of her books.

“Class, I expect you have gotten to know each-others names and timetables so you can find some time to work together on this project. Expect to see each professor’s tasks on your house notice board by this evening or tomorrow morning latest – Dismissed!”

“Well that went terribly,” Remus watched the two boys saunter out of the classroom, chatting animatedly about something that was likely a semi-dangerous prank.

“I mean if anything it went as good as expected,” Y/N snorted, “And worst case, we know we could out-prank them any day, so if they screw with us we screw with them.”

“Deal,” Remus barked a laugh as James began overtly staring at Lily Evans whose arm was looped into a girl with bleach blonde hair whom Y/N didn’t recognise.

“Come on, let's find your chocolate stash, I think I heard Narcissa mention that a new David Bowie album was released, I bet we can steal it from them for the evening.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday came around much faster than Y/N had hoped, and as she trudged towards the library after waving Remus off to his tutoring session she felt her stomach curl. This would be the first time in, well maybe in forever, that she would be spending one on one time with Sirius Black. If anything, this was the first time she would probably have a conversation with him since all those dinner parties before they set foot in Hogwarts.

“Ahhh, you came!” Sirius smiled at her, looking up from the book he was reading as she walked in.

“You were expecting otherwise?” Y/N had the sudden thought that he might be just as awkward as she was in this situation. Though he was the one who’d ignored her that first day on the train.

“Of course not,” He continued to smile, pulling out a chair for her and sitting down opposite. It was a little unnerving watching him be so nice to her, considering her last memory was him essentially telling her to fuck off, and ignoring her at pureblood events ever since.

“You ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile that much,” Y/N laughed, pulling out her notebook and a couple of books she’d borrowed the day before to get a heads up on the project.

“Well you clearly haven’t seen me in very enjoyable environments,” He barked out a laugh and pulled the books over towards him, “I see you’ve been doing your homework.”

“Well, this is a school project.”

“Mmmm, so have you and Remus already decided on what we are doing?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

“We are aware this is a group project, I promise.”

“Good, cause James and I have some great ideas as well,” He winked, flicking through the largest book sitting in front of him, Watching the World: Charms in Government.

“Nothing super legal I’m sure.”

“They may bend the law a bit,” Sirius grin seemed to curl across his face, his eyes twinkling and mischievous.

“Alright let's hear them,” Y/N sighed, pulling out a pen and readying herself for an onslaught of ridiculous.

“Ok, so you know how the project requires us to pick either a creature to take care of, or a spell, or a potion to create.”

“I did read it through yes.”

“Ok, ok, but what if we did something that would tie two of them together. Hear me out! Ok so what if we make a spell that can track all the animals within the Hogwarts grounds? Something that would let Kettleburn trace of where they all are since he seems to lose them all the time.”

Y/N stopped herself from staring a little bit, shocked at the interest that came like a wave over her. It was a genuinely intriguing idea and was kind of similar to her own thoughts, but more to track Remus when he wandered the gardens, keep him safe and away from harm's way. Or putting someone else in harm's way.

“What?” Sirius looked a little concerned, the idea obviously, something he had been genuinely excited about.

“No, nothing. It’s a really good idea.”

“Oh, ok cool,” Sirius looked excited, and not in the way that she’d seen previously when he was waiting and watching for one of his pranks to happen in the Great Hall. There was something else in the way he was looking at her, something she thought that she recognised from another time, a way he’d looked at her when they’d been forced to converse at a dinner party and he’d snuck her a chocolate bar under the table with a discreet smile.

“Alrighty then, let's get started.”

Taglist:  @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​ @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle

@desideriaenigma

  @laue-bb  @fk12b @slytherpuffgal   @fairtaldes

@j-brielmalfoy

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Killer Queen - Chapter 9: Coming Soon

Summary: Arabella Ruth White is the fifth member of the Marauders. And life at Hogwarts certainly isn’t easy. Especially when you have alcohol, relationships, unhealthy music obsessions, a fake stage persona, weird ass friends with weird ass problems and actual school all thrown into the equation. (This story is also on Wattpad and AO3 of the same name. I will always update on Wattpad first.)

Warning(s): none that I can see

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26 @bijoukitty ask to be on my taglist!

Inspired by: A Night At The Opera, various Marauders headcanons I’ve seen on Pinterest, this quarantine business, The Boy Who Killed God by @sirius-black-killed-god on AO3, All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 on AO3

Word count: 4.3k+ (holy shit)

A/N: I beg of you follow Ruth's advice on how to handle a record because some people do it Wrong. Don't be one of those people, please. Somehow, she's 16 now which is weird, but not that weird seen as she is literally a figment of my own imagination. This chapter is over 4000 words long which makes it the longest thing I've ever written.

I’m thinking about changing the point of view again. I’m currently in first but I might change it to third. First is good for funny scenes like in this chapter, but it’s not ideal for the deeper stuff I have planned later. Yes, I have a plot. Shock horror. But we shall wait and see on that one. If I do change it, I won’t edit the previous chapters to fit it because I really can’t be bothered.

Everyone, please stay safe because of what's going on and stay optimistic and occupied. For example, I'll have more time to write! It's a scary time but it will pass, like everything does at some point. OK I've gotten too philosophical. I shall stop now. This chapter is sponsored by me calling Dr Brian Harold May 'Clog Man'. This chapter title comes from Queen's 1980 album, 'The Game'.

“Good morning, peasants!” I declared as I quite literally swept into Transfiguration that morning, a crown perched precariously atop of my head, my robe billowing behind me. My dearest courtiers trailed along in my wake, begrudgingly carrying my belongings. How generous of them, I thought to myself, as if they had had any say in the matter in the first place. My loyal subjects celebrated my entrance and I gracefully sat down in my assigned seat, feet on the table, chair tipped back at precisely the right angle. I didn’t want to fall and get a concussion, now did I? Especially not on that day of all days.

Now you may wonder what on Gaia’s green earth I am on about, you may begin to question my sanity, you may finally start to piece the clues together and realise I am in fact, a total nutter. About time you did, if I’m completely honest with you, darling. However, like most of my shenanigans, the reason for all this was a well-founded one, if I did say so myself. For Twas my birthday, my sixteenth birthday to be precise, and that meant I got to be queen for a day. Not as long as I would like but hey ho, it was better than nothing. I had all the time in the world to take over the world so being queen could wait for now. Even better than this temporary monarchy, becoming sixteen came with plenty of hobbies I could now I enjoy legally, such as having sex, smoking and drinking wine in a restaurant. As if the law had stopped me before. Following the law is for the weak and my mother did not raise me to be anything of the sort.

Now as a queen such as myself, it is my regal responsibility to keep up appearances, which, to put it simply, meant to look pretty damn fabulous at all times. Hence why I was sporting a magnificent golden crown enchanted to stay on my head for the whole day and matching robe-cloak-thing. You know what I’m on about. Personally, I was rather pleased with my attire. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for one Minerva McGonagall.

An exasperated sigh from the front of the classroom was reluctantly followed by, “White, dare I ask why you are not in proper uniform?” she gestured vaguely at my majestic outfit.

“It would certainly be rather daring of you, professor,” I replied, without missing a beat. A classic raised eyebrow went my way, so I let out a sigh of my own before saying, “Tis my sixteenth birthday, dearest Minnie. If I have to attend lessons on such an occasion, then I must be allowed to dress appropriately.”

“And you consider a crown half as big as yourself to be appropriate for school?” her wonderfully Scottish voice quipped back.

“Why of course ma’am, you see it’s what I like to call my thinking cap,” I grinned broadly at her before joining a giggling Sirius who had gone to great lengths to keep it all in.

But nothing in this godforsaken world, and I do not say that lightly, could have prepared me for Minnie’s response: “Then perhaps it will do you some good.” She turned to the blackboard behind her to begin the lesson I had partly succeeded in delaying.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well. I clutched at my chest as if I’d been shot, and believe me it felt like I had been, and dramatically fell into the arms of James, as he was the unfortunate soul who sat next to me. I weakly reached up to touch his face as they do in the muggle movies, made a mental note to remind him to fucking shave and heaved out, “Jamie, I won’t last much longer but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What, my darling? What is it?” he asked, faithfully going along with my foolish antics as always, the poor sod.

“I…love…” I whispered before going limp in his arms as if I was dead.

“Ruth, my love, no!” he hugged my ‘corpse’ while sobbing rather profoundly.

Sirius leapt to his feet (I had to open my eyes slightly for this bit) and declared, “What do you mean ‘my love’? Ruth has been the love of my life since I first laid eyes on her!”

“You foul fiend! Ruth was the second reason for my very existence after Evans, thank you very much!” James too jumped up, leaving me to flop onto the stone floor with an ungraceful ‘ugh’. I could sense Lily’s annoyance from the other side of the classroom.

James and Sirius both grabbed their wands, pointed them at one another, but instead of cursing each other, they used them like fencing swords. Just before Sirius could ‘stab’ James, I myself jumped up and cried, “Wait!” at the same time Minnie yelled, “Enough!”

Naturally, we took no notice of this.

Both boys turned to look at me, only for me to say, “I don’t love either of you. I love Remus!” I pointed at the boy in question who in turn smirked his classic smirk.

He opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by an infuriated Minnie, “I said enough! Sit down, all three of you or it’s detention for a week!” Now I was pretty sure she was only letting us off because she was well aware that if I was given detention on my birthday, I would certainly not go. I’d like to think it was because she loved us dearly, but my mother didn’t raise me to be a liar either. Considering the circumstances, a.k.a. my huge fucking party I had planned for later on, I did what I almost never did.

I sat down.

Not without a snarky “ooooooooh” of course.

Naturally, Minnie wasn’t all that impressed with my reply, “Evans, swap seats with White, please.”

Naturally, I wasn’t all that impressed with her reply either, “Professor, are you seriously going to move me on my birthday?”

“That is correct.”

“Miss, that’s not fair, I haven’t even done anything that bad, we’re all in one piece, aren’t we? Besides, why is it only me that’s getting moved, what’s up with that?”

“You’re not the only one I’m moving, I’m also moving Evans, am I not?” she snapped, not at all pleased with my outburst, “Now please move seats, you are disrupting my lesson.”

I pouted like a little child on the naughty step, grabbed my stuff together and plonked myself where Lily had been sitting, next to a girl who had only started in September, from Greece or Italy or somewhere. I suddenly realised Lily was now sitting next to James, so I felt the need to apologise, “Sorry, Lily!”, I said in a similar manner to a kid who was forced to say sorry to their sibling after hitting them. She just shot me a reproachful look which had me fearing for my life for a second, before turning to the lesson that could finally begin.

Obviously, I wasn’t exactly keen to take part in the lesson, so I opted for attempting to get to know my new desk partner, “You’re the new girl, right?”

I was met with a blank stare and confusion from both parties until something clicked for me: if she had just moved here from another country then she probably didn’t speak much English.

Well shit.

I tried again, simplifying my language but hopefully not sounding too patronising, “Are you new?”

The poor girl still strongly resembled a deer in headlights but nodded, “Yes?”

“What’s your name, darling?” I was determined to get to know this girl, she seemed nice enough and, knowing from experience what it felt like to be the new kid, I felt a strange urge to help her.

She cocked her head to the side in confusion, now looking like an owl of some sort. It was at this point where I gave up and just waved her off, “Don’t worry.” If Minnie was as adamant about me staying in this seat as I suspected, I’d have plenty of time later to try and talk to this girl. Maybe when she knew a bit more English. Or maybe I could teach her some? Well saying that I’m not sure how good of a teacher I would actually be. I’d probably be more of a nuisance than a help.

The rest of the school day carried on in a similar fashion, with the usual jokes played out in a more dramatic manner than usual. Fine by me. The end of lessons couldn’t come soon enough but at last, they were over. Meaning I could finally, finally, open my damn presents.

Well, I say presents, but me being the impatient bastard that I am, I actually opened most of them that morning at breakfast. Which involved about a year’s supply of chocolate, a 10-pack of condoms and no less than three boxes of tea from various posh shops in London. And a hell of a lot of magical alcohol, which was far better than the muggle stuff, but we don’t talk about that. There was only one present left and that was the one from the woman who birthed me. I realise that I have led you under false pretences of sentiment towards my dear mother, and while I do in fact over her greatly, this is not the case. It was actually because our family owl, Bob (don’t ask me why he’s called fucking Bob, Rhea named him), is quite possibly slower than a bloody snail and took the whole day to fly from Cromer to Scotland.

I ran up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory, which is saying something considering I don’t run for anything, and there it was, laying on what was basically my bed when Kingsley wasn’t around, wrapped in shining gold paper, my birthday present. Instantly I got a huge sense of déjà vu, as I knew exactly what it was.

A vinyl record.

Because what else do I do with my spare time these days?

I carefully picked it up, observing it in the stream of November sunlight coming from the window. Judging from the size and weight of it, it was definitely an album, my excitement increasing tenfold. I opened it as carefully as possible to discover that it was indeed Queen’s new album. Their iconic crest was printed on the front in a loud colour scheme of orange and pink. The title was written in black cursive: ‘A Night At The Opera’. The whole thing, though relatively simple in its design, screamed regalness.

I was so mesmerised by it that I didn’t even see the envelope on the bed until I very nearly sat on it. My mum’s familiar handwriting addressed me on the front of it and inside was a card with the most gorgeous watercolour print of the Cromer Pier which had me missing it terribly. I opened it to read what she had written and I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face.

To Ruth,

Happy birthday, darling! It’s hard to believe you’re 16 now, I still see you as my gorgeous baby girl! I know I can’t see you on your special day, but half term is less than a month away – you’ll be home before we know it!

I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done, and we all love you very much. Have a wonderful day with your friends!

Lots of love,

Mum, Rhea and Luke xxx

P.S. Don’t tell Mum but I got you a sort of magical cactus from Diagon Alley but I’ll give it to you when you come back – Rhea

P.P.S What Rhea forgot to tell you is that the cactus was my idea, I just didn’t have any pocket money left after going to the sweet shop - Luke

I smiled at the message and at my siblings’ additions at the bottom and found myself missing them more than I anticipated. I put on my bedside table, next to the magical photo us the boys and me which never failed to make me laugh. It was of us knee-deep in the Great Lake, around the July of our third year. James had his back to the camera but still showed his face and his lopsided grin; he was carrying Sirius over his shoulder like a fireman, the latter of which was showing his middle finger to the camera as best he could. Peter was mid-fall in front of them, just seconds before face-planting the water. Remus was to the right of them, trying his best to avoid getting wet from Peter’s inevitable splash, his face all screwed up in an attempt to protect his eyes. I was trying to hoist myself up onto Remus’s shoulders, which wouldn’t have been so difficult if he wasn’t so fucking tall, even at 14 he was a giant. The photo was magical, so we were all moving around as we had been at the time. I was lucky enough to have caught the exact moment I pulled my wand out and cast the aguamenti charm, aiming at everyone’s head but more importantly, James and Sirius’s hair. The photo was an endless cycle of me jumping up, casting the spell and being chased around by everyone before going back to our original positions.

I reluctantly turned away from the treasured photo, picked up the album and turned to run to the Room Of Requirement so I could listen to the artistry I held in my undeserving hands. Somehow, my close good friends beat me to it; there they stood in the doorway, carrying my dear record player between them with wide grins on their faces, not altogether dissimilar from the one James sported in the photograph.

I wondered for a second how the vinyl got itself onto my bed, and how the boys knew they had to get my record player, but then I realised my mother must have told them in advance. She may have been a Hufflepuff, but I do sometimes think she would have made a fine Slytherin. Surprise kids, I don’t have a prejudice against the entirety of Slytherin house, just the ones who are, quite frankly, dickheads. Not my fault if that’s the majority of them.

They popped my dear baby on the floor and sat down various surfaces: the floor, their beds, Remus’s lap (*cough cough* Sirius *cough cough*). I ever-so-carefully removed the vinyl from its sleeve and placed it onto the turntable, only touching the outermost edges so as to not get grease into the grooves of the record. Now, I can’t be ruining it already.

“I hope you know we love you enough to carry that thing all the way here,” Sirius whined, mopping non-existent sweat from his forehead using’s Remus’s poor jumper. The audacity he had to refer to my precious record player as ‘that thing’. I didn’t hit him, which is very unlike me, but I refused to sink to his level. Twat.

“Thank you darling but I think, in the midst of wanting to show off your varying levels of strength, you all forgot you could simply levitate my baby here,” I flopped onto Remus’s bed (by far the cleanest one) as Peter repeatedly smacked James with a pillow, “What did I say, James? What did I fucking say?”

Poor James just groaned at him to stop, arms up in a quite frankly pathetic bid to protect himself. He looked at me helplessly, but I just shook my head with a cheeky smirk on my face, “Nope, you got yourself into this mess, I’m not getting involved.”

Sirius, on the other hand, was laughing so much that Remus had to move him from lying against his chest to having his head in his lap to prevent him from hurting himself. I was half-convinced that Sirius was in fact having a heart attack but at this point, I was not nearly drunk enough to put up with his bullshit. Oh yeah, forgot to mention we each took a shot after breakfast seen as it’s my birthday, only increasing our chances of getting alcohol poisoning within the next weekend or so. But let’s be honest, I’m only using my birthday as an excuse to drink more alcohol at eight o’clock in the morning.

A few more smacks and one case of concussion later, we had all calmed down enough for me to play my goddamn record. Suspense hung in the air as the tiny crackles of an unused record sounded, followed by a crescendo of lightning-fast piano. Definitely not what I expected from a song entitled ‘Death On Two Legs (Dedicated To…)’, until Brian’s slightly menacing guitar burst through the speakers. The rest of the carried on in a similar fashion, fancy piano and angry guitar combined with lyrics I could only describe as savage. I made a mental note to look at the enclosed lyrics later on to see what exactly Freddie was singing, as even for my standards it was rather mean. I also couldn’t help but wonder who this was dedicated to and what they had done for Freddie to sing about them in such a manner. Must be quite the dickhead. Maybe someone like Snivellus. You can’t get much worse than Snivellus.

The next song was called ‘Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon’ and I couldn’t help but giggle throughout it. It felt very vintage, the singing was distorted somewhat, but it seemed more as if they were taking the mick out of the genre. It was a little thing, hardly a couple of minutes long, and soon transitioned to ‘I’m In Love With My Car’, which I distinctly remembered from the B-side of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. That song will never fail to make me laugh. How a man can be so attached to his car, I’ll never know.

Those comedic masterpieces were followed by ‘You’re My Best Friend’, which I fell in love with within the first five seconds. The adorable little piano, the adorable little lyrics, the adorable little bass, okay I could go on like this for hours, but the point is that I loved this song and would gladly be its friend, were it a person. Yeah, I may have been a tad tipsy, might have had something to do with the shots we took between lessons on top of the one at breakfast. I had wanted to maintain a state of slight tipsiness throughout the day. Moving swiftly on.

‘39’ was next, and it was safe to say that I wasn’t expecting any of it. At first, the guitar made me chuckle, then the realisation that it was just vocals, guitar and fucking tambourine, and then the fact that it was almost certainly a county song about space. Brian was singing, of course it was Brian, and I seemed to have forgotten how talented a singer he actually is. And a songwriter because let’s be real, there is no way in hell that anyone in the band apart from Clog Man wrote this.

‘Sweet Lady’ came after that, which contrasted ‘39’ so much that it basically gave me whiplash. To be honest, I should have seen that coming seeing as that was how Queen seemed to work, a heavy rock song followed by something completely different and so on and so on. You’d think you’d grow tired of constantly changing styles but somehow Queen pulled it off magnificently, as they did with pretty much anything they set their minds to. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, don’t get me wrong it was a cool song, just not quite my cup of tea. I felt a little bit guilty about not liking it, but I forced myself to remember that I didn’t have to like every song on the album in order to be a fan.

‘Seaside Rendezvous’ was the next song and the last one on side A. I found it very quirky and much more to my liking. I could easily imagine myself going for a stroll down the beach back at home while humming this. And potentially dancing to it down the pier. Although I would look quite the crackhead as no one else would be able to hear it; but since when did I care about looking like a twat? I was already friends with plenty of twats, I stopped caring years ago. Somewhere in the middle of the song, there was a part that sounded like an orchestra of some kind, but I could tell Roger had something to do with the woodwind section, which led to some rather interesting images in my mind. Make of that what you will. The tap-dancing part made me laugh because I highly doubted that any of them could actually tap dance, leading to me wondering how to the fuck they did that. My brain also thought it was necessary to conjure up some cursed images of Brian tap-dancing in his clogs. Fucking hell, what was wrong with me?

As quickly and carefully as I could, I flipped the record onto the B-side, which started off with ‘The Prophet’s Song’. I was so naïve to think that ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ was long; this bad boy was all of eight minutes and basically a musical on its own, worthy of the likes of the West End or Broadway. The absolute artistry of the lyrics and the music quickly made it one of my favourites so far, which was saying something as I loved the whole damn album anyway. There was a good couple of minutes of straight acapella, mainly just countless overdubs of Freddie singing ‘no I know’ at various different pitches; then Roger and Brian joining in for a chorus of ‘la la la la la’. It was strangely creepy, and I had yet to figure out if that was their intention.

That then flowed almost seamlessly into ‘Love Of My Life’, a melancholic ballad that was as beautiful as it was sad. It didn’t take me long to work out that it was a harp rather than an acoustic guitar, I grinned at the mental images of Brian learning the harp for the sake of this one song. Surely if he’d known how to play it all along, he would have shown off his musical prowess much earlier.

Naturally, the next song flipped this whole vibe that had just been created on its head. ‘Good Company’ was its name and it involved a whole band created solely by Brian’s guitar. It seemed funny to me, but I didn’t know why. A bit like with ‘Sweet Lady’, I wasn’t all too sure if I like it or not. I did notice Brian singing again; it was nice to hear his voice on the record more, not to diss Freddie or Roger in any way, shape or form. Now I wanted to hear John sing and we would be good to go.

The last proper song on the album was, of course, the absolute masterpiece (or as Sirius liked to call it, ‘an utter fucking bop’) that was ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. Considering the sheer amount of times we’ve listened to the record since it came out, it wasn’t all that surprising that we knew all the words off by heart. This was including playing all five minutes and fifty-five seconds of it while James was in the shower, so he didn’t spend hours in there and use up all the hot water. The rule was that he had to be out by the time the song had ended, or we would send Lily the picture we had of him with his hair all wet. And he would die before he consented to such a thing. Trust me, it’s not a particularly flattering look on him. I had to remind them to resist the urge to jump around when the rock bit came on, you know what I’m on about, so as to not damage the vinyl already.

The last track was a guitar rendition of ‘God Save The Queen’, which was outrageous as it was excessive. Just layers upon layers of guitar, I would forever be impressed by Brian’s skills. Sirius, however, was still moaning over his restricted movement.

“But why can’t we jump? It’s so much more fun that headbanging alone,” Sirius whined like the petulant child that he was. I had to give him at least some credit, he may have an impressive amount of muggle knowledge, but he was still a pureblood and a Black at that. He could be so naïve sometimes.

“Darling you have to understand that it’s a sensitive little thing. If you jump, so will the vinyl, which will scratch it and it will jump at awkward times,” I explained, to which I was met with blank stares as if I was speaking in bloody Welsh. I sighed, perhaps a little more dramatically than necessary but if that doesn’t some up my whole life then I don’t know what does, and tried again, “Like with my Sheer Heart Attack record? Where it jumps during Brighton Rock and Killer Queen?”

“Ohhhh,” understanding washed over his and James’s faces because let’s be honest, if you think Sirius is oblivious then clearly, you’ve never met James.

“Yes, ohhhh,” I repeated, taking the mick out of the stupid buggers. Hey, it’s my birthday, I’m allowed to do whatever I want.

Which reminded me of the party I had planned for later. Well, I say party, it was going to be more of a ball than anything. A birthday ball, if you will. What can I say, I have a flair for the dramatics, sue me.

[elfpen]

The Circle

An FMA drabble because my brain needs a break.

---------- 

He did not dress like a professor, did not speak like a professor, gave tougher homework and harsher grades than any other professor, and was undoubtedly the meanest professor in the entire Alchemy department. And yet, his classes grew waiting lists every single term.

It usually took a few weeks to get a good read on a new class. Would they be rowdy? Attentive? Sleepy? How many would drop out? How many would sleep their way to a C? Who would sit in the front row with their notebooks out? Who would sit in the back where he thought he couldn’t see? Who would set fire to their desk in a failed transmutation? Who would - and god, he always hoped it wouldn’t happen, but inevitably, it did - start flirting with him?

Edward Elric squinted at the at the new faces as the students filed into his classroom. Some he recognized from previous classes, but most were a mystery. Mystery was one of the fun parts of his job. Long retired from his youthful days of world-saving, the puzzle of new college students was a delectable treat, and the first few weeks of class were a thrill that he savored every term. So, when students made it easy for him, it pissed him off.

On day two, one hour and twenty-six minutes into a three hour discussion about transmutation circle geometry, a blond-haired, green-eyed pest raised his hand. Edward finished drawing his circle on the blackboard and paused.

“Yes - um, it’s Michael, right?”

“Yes sir, it’s ‘mik-KEL’, actually,” the boy gave a tight grin.

“Oh, right, sorry, Michael,” Ed filed the pronunciation away in his brain.

“Yes sir, I wanted to know how to get my circles to look as perfect as the ones you’re drawing.”

It was an honest, good question, and made Ed chuckle along with some of his students. “Practice, I’m afraid. I make it look easy, but there’s no trick to it. I’ve drawn hundreds of these things, you just have to practice at it.”

Michael was unmoved, and did not laugh. He looked pensive. “I wouldn’t think you’d need hundreds of transmutation circles if you can’t perform alchemy.” The room fell utterly silent. “...sir,” Michael tacked on, remorseless.

Edward stared at him, completely nonplussed. “The transmutation circle is the foundation for all alchemical operations,” Edward said, choosing to ignore the slight and continue on with class, “whether you’re performing a transmutation or composing a circle for future or theoretical use, the circle is a language all its own, and does not need to be executed in order to understand its meaning...” as he spoke, the class collectively relaxed, but Michael continued watching him, eyebrows drawn, green eyes flashing between Edward and every syllable he wrote on the board, looking for a gap in his armor.

Oh, Edward thought, seeing in an afternoon what would’ve normally taken him weeks to map out, so it’s going to be like that. 

—-

Every time Michael raised his hand, Edward bit down hard enough that he could hear his own jaw muscles straining to keep his tongue locked behind his teeth.

“Yes, Michael?” he dutifully answered in time, annoyance only barely veiled by the reprimands he received from his superiors every year.

“Can you give us a demonstration, sir?” the student asked, in reference to the simple transmutation up for their consideration, a metal-and-clay child’s toy. Edward leaned back against his desk, crossed his arms, and glared. Most of the other students, now accustomed to this uncomfortable tete-a-tete, looked pointedly down at their notes.

“No, Michael, I can’t, but why don’t you give it a shot?”

When Michael performed it perfectly and the class clapped, Edward cursed the boy’s success and realized he was a horrible teacher for thinking it.

—-

Halfway through autumn, Michael started sitting with a girl. For the first few infatuated days, Edward had hoped she’d draw his attentions away from being horrible with her wily charms, but before long, he’d begun trying to impress her.

“Professor?”

Despite the fact that the damn runt was at least fifteen years his junior, Michael’s voice actually made Edward feel afraid. And that, in turn, made him angry. He stopped mid-sentence and turned on his heel to face the kid - young man, Edward conceded, and stared. He did not say anything to invite comment, but Michael didn’t need him to.

“Are you sure that’s the right rune for that, professor?”

“Yes, Michael,” he said, speaking slowly to keep himself from screaming, “I think I know the difference between transmuting lead and transmuting copper.” For the benefit of the class, he added, “If it’s a complex circle, you can get lost in the runes and may attempt to transmute one element when you wrote the rune for a different one, but you should be able to tell right away. Lead and copper have entirely different densities, and the energy feels different when you’re transmuting them. You’d have to start over, but it’s an easy fix.”

“Feels different, sir?” Michael asked, and Edward turned slowly, hating how trapped he felt, hating how small he felt, standing alone in the front of the room.

“Yes, Michael,” he said, and felt as if he were baring his neck. He knew the dance by now.

“How would you know, sir?”

“How do you not?” he heard himself snap back. “As I was saying...” He turned away and continued on with his lecture, but didn’t stop sweating until he returned home that evening.

—-

Things came to a head when Edward was reviewing the ingredients to transmute a cotton waistcoat. “Except for a few bits and buttons, it’s mostly cotton, but that doesn’t make it simple. Can anyone tell me why cotton is so tricky?”

A bookish female student who almost never raised her hand did, and Edward leaped at the opportunity. “Yes, miss Trellan.”

“Because cotton is an organic substance, and organic matrices are incredibly hard to reconstruct, sir.”

“Excellent! Did everyone here what she said? Good. All cotton fabric is, at the base, an organic material, though it’s been processed and spun and woven and so forth. Deconstruction is a cinch, but reconstruction can be hard to get right. Cotton fabric isn’t alive like cotton the plant, of course, but if you want to end up with a decent piece of clothing, you have be aware of the residual cellular makeup of the fiber, so that you don’t accidentally...”

“Michael, don’t,” Edward heard The Girlfriend whisper, and he broke into a sweat. Michael’s hand shot up.

“Yes, Michael,” he said, wishing he could fade away.

“Could you transmute a piece of clothing from organic cotton? Right off the plant, I mean, instead of woven?”

Oh. That... was a good question, actually. “Yes, you can,” Ed told him. “It takes quite a bit more research to set up an array, but yes, you can, I know a few tailors who’ve made a fortune doing something like it.”

“But could you transmute a cotton plant into, say... a flax plant?”

Edward’s relief dissolved. “What, a living flax plant?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, and crossed his arms, waiting to hear what Professor Elric would say.

Edward blinked. “I’m... I’m not really sure. I don’t see why you’d want to. Cotton and flax are both pretty useless unless they’re spun,” that drew a few chuckles, at least.

“What about other organic material? Like... animals.” The chuckles stopped abruptly. Michael’s unmoving expression was making Edward sweat for different reasons, older reasons, reasons that happened right here in Central, decades ago.

“You’re talking about chimeras,” Edward said. “That is highly illegal, for one thing.”

“Alchemical doctors use biological alchemy all the time,” Michael defended. “If they can reconstruct organic tissue-”

“Human tissue is fairly different than cotton,” Edward pointed out.

“Yes, but if human transmutation is possible, then why can’t-”

“Human transmutation is not possible,” Edward snapped, louder than he’d meant to. The room fell silent, and two dozen students stared back in frightened silence, eyes alternating between Edward and Michael.

“If it were impossible,” Michael said in the tone of someone who’d given it more than enough thought, “medical alchemy wouldn��t exist. If it weren’t possible, it wouldn’t be illegal.”

Edward shared in the stunned silence that followed. All around Michael, the entire front row was shrinking into their seats, as if they could melt past their desks and through the floor to escape. 

“Human transmutation,” Professor Elric repeated in a firm, deliberate order, “is impossible.”

“How do you know?” Michael said, and for the first time there was evidence of real condescension in his expression. “You always say we can’t learn something until we try it. Exactly how many times have you tried it, professor?”

Michael’s girlfriend, who’d been sitting shoulder to shoulder with him for weeks, was leaning away with saucer-wide eyes, and the rest of the class were shooting each other worried looks, knowing that the subject their classmate had decided to poke with a stick was not merely a taboo in Central University, or in Amestris, but in the world of Alchemy as a whole.

Edward locked eyes with Michael, gold to green. He stared, and stared, and found that he was no longer sweating. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and gripped his alchemist’s watch so hard he could feel the dragon imprinted on his palm. The classroom was silent, but he spoke with the overdrawn confidence he’d learned as a boy.

“Five.”

Silence was no longer an adequate word. It was so quiet, he heard his own saliva as he prepared to speak again:

“The first time when I was eleven, the second immediately after that, twice while I was fifteen, and the last time when I was sixteen.”

Edward wished he could freeze time, harvest the concentrated horror on Michael’s face and distill it into a stiff drink, just so he could knock it back and toss the glass at the stupid little punk’s dumbass face.

But then, he realized, everyone else was staring at him too. He’d never entered into this territory with any other class. But now he had, and he’d probably face more reprimands. He might even get fired. Right hand playing idly with the chain on his watch, Edward sat on the edge of his desk.

“The first time was when I was eleven and my brother was ten, we tried to raise our mother - may she rest in peace - from the grave. It did not work, but for my trouble I lost my right arm and my left leg, and my brother lost his entire body. He lost his soul, too, which brought me to my second attempt at human transmutation: I called by brother’s soul back from wherever it’d been taken and bound it to a suit of armor in a circle drawn in my own blood - the only vaguely stable material I had on hand.” The classroom was a hall of statues, and Edward felt as though he were not speaking to people at all, but an empty room - empty rooms, he had found, were always more receptive to dark conversation. He looked up, remembering. 

“Let’s see... the third time was when I was trapped in another dimension. I transmuted myself to get myself back in the real world. Not ideal, by any stretch of the imagination.” He sounded like a madman. “The fourth time, I used human transmutation on myself to heal a wound that should’ve been fatal. And the fifth time...” even as he spoke, they weren’t too far away from the very spot. Sometimes, Edward walked by Central Command and could almost feel the crackle of energy over his hands again. It made him shiver. “The last time I transmuted a person, the last time I transmuted anything at all, was when I transmuted my own ability to perform alchemy to provide equivalent exchange to bring my brother’s body back to the real world.”

The silence had coalesced into an atmosphere thick as tar. The student statues slowly began to move. Michael’s mouth began to twitch, as if he was trying to find something to say.

“Medical transmutation is possible,” Edward told his students, “and incredibly helpful, if you have enough training. The transmutation of an entire living person is even possible, though it almost always results in a rebound or death. But the transmutation of a deceased person is not possible, it never has been, never will be, and was not worth the cost to investigate.” As he spoke, Edward quietly lifted his left pant leg to show his automail leg, and then pulled the collar of his shirt and waistcoat aside to show the garish scar left from his transmuted right arm. “So before you do anything stupid, I suggest you learn from people like me and spare yourselves the grief.”

The room remained silent. In the dearth of comment and questions, Edward turned back to his notes, retracing the steps of their conversation. “Now,” he said, “cotton.” 

Somehow, he got the lecture back on track, but let the class go early anyway. Michael skittered away with a haunted, contrite expression and Edward knew he was going straight to the archives to investigate his claims. He closed his eyes and rubbed at them, feeling a headache coming on. No doubt the Dean would be in contact about this ‘incident’ in short order.

“Professor?” 

He looked up to find an empty classroom and Michael’s girlfriend - ex girlfriend by now, if he were to hazard a guess - looking up at him nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Hmm?” he grunted, and she seemed to shrink.

“Is... I mean, after all you said about, um... about humantransmutation,” she said it as one word, as if saying it faster would keep her from reproach, “is... um, is, uh,”

“Spit it out,” he demanded, crossing his arms and bracing for impact.

“Is your brother okay?” She blurted.

It was not what he was expecting. “Who, Alphonse?” Edward found himself saying in an incredulous tone. He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, he’s just fine, just as annoying as little brothers ever were. Last I heard he and his wife were mucking around in some desert ruins.”

“Oh,” the girl, given a happy answer to her question, seemed uncertain of what to say next. “Oh, that’s good. Just. What you said... I mean, I just... well, I’m glad.” She stood awkwardly for a moment, turned, and left without a farewell. Then, she stopped at the door and turned back around.

“Does Central offer any classes on medical transmutation?” She asked. “I’d never heard about it. And if it’s that useful...” she hesitated. Edward didn’t look at her as he stuffed papers into his briefcase.

“They’re really hard, you know. As hard as any medical degree.”

“How hard is that?” she asked.

Despite himself, Edward smiled. He looked back up at her. He remembered being this ignorant, studying human transmutation as a child, not knowing how difficult it was supposed to be and not knowing he was too young. But dead mothers and medicine were two very different things.

“Dr. Barrow offers the second half of his unit in the spring. Talk with him and he might be able to catch you up before then. It’ll be a lot of work.”

“Oh, okay,” she seemed more lively, more confident than she had before. “Thank you, Dr. Elric!” she smiled. “And... and thank you for, uh...”

“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” Edward waved her away, grabbing his things and turning out the lights. 

He was gratified when, on Tuesday, the girl was sitting across the hall from Michael, and Michael remained silent. The thrill of the mystery was back on, and notwithstanding the angry letter he got from the Dean about “illicit topical discussion”, Edward Elric saw autumn turn to spring in the normal ebb and flow of class. 

—

In the spring, he received a note from a student requesting his reference so that she could receive permission to test out of Medical Alchemy I to go straight into Medical Alchemy II. 

I realize you are not a medical specialist, but as a member of the permanent faculty, your vote would forward my request to the Dean’s office, and allow me to..... blah, blah, blah. Students got wordier every year. His eyes skimmed down the page, but when he saw the signature, he froze.

...appreciate your help with this.

Many thanks,

Trisha

Edward Elric stared at the letter for a full minute in silence before breaking into a laugh that sent him to tears. His mother would’ve relished such irony. The circle was the foundation of all alchemy, so it was only right that that name had come ‘round again. Even Hohenheim, Ed was was sure, wouldn’t have an explanation for this twist of fate. 

“Going to be a doctor, huh?” he said to the letter in the quiet of his office. “Alright, doc, learn from my mistakes.” He signed the letter, sealed it, and sent it back on its way.

That night, as he drifted to sleep beside his wife, the thought of human transmutation crossed his mind, and for the first time since he was eleven years old, Edward Elric did not think of the Thing he’d created with his brother. Instead, he thought of their mother, and of a young, unafraid college student who shared her name.

[matrixaffiliate]

Salient

New Story! FFN and AO3

There's something magical about his waitress, and Al is determined to get to the bottom of it. NOT CURSED CHILD COMPLIANT!

This story stems from my story Portent, and like that one this is NOT Cursed Child compliant. You have been warned. You do not need to read Portent first, this story comes before that story and we'll see how far I take it. I'll probably take it at least to where Portent is.

Next chapter goes up on July 20.

Chapter 1

He was going to quit.

He was going to admit defeat and drop his classes and see if Aunt Hermione could find him someplace interesting to work for the rest of his life. Albus Potter was finished trying to make Muggle technology work around magic. It had been a pipe dream and he should have seen it as one. He'd spent a full year and a half in university trying to figure out what he was missing and nothing was working. He was wasting money and his life trying to solve something that was unsolvable and he was an idiot for thinking he was different and could figure it out.

Al shoved the ruined laptop into the duffle bag his dad converted for him, hearing it clatter as it fell to the bottom. They were only two weeks into the semester but he already had a decent amount of work to be done on top of his stupid experimenting. Al stared at the textbooks for a long moment before shaking his head. He holstered his wand beneath his shirt, grabbed his phone, and went for a walk.

It was cold, but Al was grateful for it. The freezing air around him seemed to numb his brain a bit too, giving him a momentary respite from his thoughts. He didn't pay attention to where he was walking, Al just walked. He must have looked like a crazy person as he would randomly decide to turn back and take a turn he had initially decided against. Aunt Hermione called it part of his innovative character, but Al wondered if she was mixing up the words innovative and insane.

He'd been walking for nearly forty-five minutes when his body finally started rebelling with pain. Al ducked into the first available door hoping to warm up just enough before pushing out into the cold to freeze his brain again. But as the door shut, Al felt himself freeze for a completely different reason than the weather.

His eyes had fallen on a woman who took the breath from his lungs faster than the winter air had. She had dark mahogany colored hair pulled back and pinned into a bun. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and she was talking with an accent Al thought he had heard before but nothing like this; and he never wanted to stop hearing it.

"If it's just you, pull up a seat at the counter," the woman smiled at him. "I'll be right with you."

Al finally took a moment to look around. He had apparently walked into a small caff. A voice in his head told him that he would have called it a dive if this lovely woman hadn't been standing in it. There were five small booths and a long counter that ran nearly the length of the narrow building. Al slid onto one of the stools at the counter just as the beautiful waitress had instructed.

She came around the counter from the table that she'd just delivered their order and pulled out a pad and pen.

"What can I get you?"

Al blinked, realizing that he hadn't really thought about the fact that he was in a restaurant and therefore would need to order something to eat or drink.

"Er," he hedged trying to find a menu.

"Look up, green eyes," she chuckled, pointing her pen upward.

Al looked up to find a blackboard with the menu scrawled across it in white chalk. Al picked the first two things that looked good and in his price range.

"Peppermint tea and a spinach omelet, please."

The beauty smiled at him, "Good choices, I'll be back."

Al watched her go, and he felt something a lot like magic.

Well, that kind of magic too but specifically real magic. As the gorgeous woman walked away, Al would have sworn on Merlin's grave that he felt magic in the air. He'd spent the last few years trying to make magic and Muggle technology co-exist, and he'd become somewhat adept at sensing when magic was around him. Al felt magic when his waitress turned and walked back to the kitchen, and felt it fade as she disappeared behind the door.

Al's bad morning of experimenting was now far from his brain. He was completely focused on a new goal, getting this woman's name, and maybe her number if he was lucky.

She appeared through the door with a mug of steaming water and plate with tea bags and milk and sugar. The magic wasn't there, well the real magic wasn't but Al still had stars in his eyes for this stunning creature. So much so that he utilized advice about chatting up a girl he got from Jamie while they were both still at Hogwarts.

"Thanks," he smiled at her as she set down his drink, "I'm sure you get asked all the time," he paused, hoping she would fill in the blank with the obvious question of where she was from before throwing what Jamie called a side pass, "but where do you get your aprons?"

The woman looked at him confused for a moment before a smile took over her face and she laughed, a clear and joyous sound that made Al want to listen to it on his phone on repeat all day.

"I'm from St. John's, Newfoundland. It's a Canadian island."

Al grinned, she didn't give him her name but she told him where she was from. He decided that was progress.

"That's brilliant. I'm Al, by the way."

"Ellie," she offered him her hand before pulling back and huffing. "Sorry, my boss gets mad when I shake hands with customers, says it's a waste of time for me to keep washing my hands."

Al chuckled, "Maybe I could take you up on the handshake after your shift?"

Ellie's face turned a pretty shade of red and she made a motion like she might like to behind her hair if it wasn't pulled back.

"I'll think about it." She smiled at him before turning and heading over to one of the tables.

And the magic was back. Al was almost too distracted by the magic he felt around him to fully appreciate the figurative magic he felt with Ellie. But Al was too much of a geek to not want to solve this puzzle.

He stirred his milk and sugar into his tea while he thought through what he knew. First, Ellie was gorgeous and he definitely wanted to get to know her. Second, every time Ellie had walked away from him, he sensed that there was real magic around her. Third, it was only when her back was turned to him that he sensed it.

Ellie slipped back into the kitchen and Al determined he was just as interested in her walking away from him as he was in her walking toward him. The next time she walked away, he'd pay attention. Maybe she had some magical item?

Maybe, maybe she was a witch?

Al didn't let his brain go down that latter road. He didn't want to set expectations for her. He didn't have a problem dating Muggles. He'd dated a couple of Muggle girls in the year or so he'd been living in the Muggle world full time, granted he never felt close enough to try and figure out how to approach the bombshell of him being a wizard, but lots of people had things they didn't immediately share in a new relationship, and sometimes a relationship never developed to a point for those things to come up. He just had a bit of a huge secret along with the little things like a Star Wars obsession.

The prospect of dating a witch was sort of exciting seeing as he hadn't dated a witch since Hogwarts, let alone a witch who was living in the Muggle world as he was. That was too much to hope for.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the door to the kitchen opened and Ellie walked out with a tray of food. She delivered Al's plate last along with a shy smile.

"I work Tuesdays and Thursdays from open to close," she said quietly while wiping down a section of the counter. Al noticed that it didn't need to be cleaned, which gave him a bit of a smug feeling in his chest.

"The whole day?"

Ellie's cheeks flushed but she smiled, "This place is open from six till two, and wait staff shows up at half five and stays till usually three to clean up."

Al leaned closer to her over the counter. "Well, that's very good news because I don't have class on either of those days until after lunch."

Ellie busied herself behind the counter with filing napkin holders. "Are you at uni here too?"

Al nodded as he cut into his omelet. "What are you studying?"

"Art," Ellie sighed happily. "What about you?"

"Information Technology, Computer Science, and a minor in Computer Engineering." Al shoved a bite of omelet into his mouth and was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. He was also surprised that Ellie didn't immediately freak out at his degree choices. Even the professors called him crazy.

"There's something about you," she set the napkin holder down, "and I can't place my finger on it, but there's something about you that's not like most blokes who come in here."

Al held her gaze, forcing his eyes not to drop to her lips because, Merlin, this woman was going to be the death of him and he'd known her for less than thirty minutes.

"There's something magical about you too."

She blushed and Al wondered if he'd dropped enough of a hint. How does one go about asking if another is a witch?

The order bell rang and Ellie started before winking at Al and walking back toward the kitchen.

Al focused on the magic that radiated from her retreating form, trying to sense what it was. The magic was focused around her head, he realized, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about her head. Her dark hair was twisted up into a bun and...

He just caught sight of it as she walked behind the door, a long white hair pin stick. Whatever that was, it wasn't Muggle-made.

And a part of Al's brain wanted it to be a wand.

Everything about how it felt made Al believe it was a wand. It was shorter than his, probably nine inches, but while his wand looked like a stick, the pin in Ellie's hair looked to be a piece of artwork. It wasn't quite white, more of an ivory color, and Al thought he saw what looked like designs carved into it.

It was beautiful.

Al finished his omelet, watching the kitchen door for Ellie to reappear, though he had no idea what he was going to say.

Before that little technicality could come to mind, Ellie appeared with his bill.

"So, if you're ever in the market for an omelet, you should come back." She didn't look at him as she busied herself with straightening the salt and pepper shakers.

"I'm a big fan of omelets," Al handed her his card. As his brain was about to kick him for such a pathetic comment, Ellie turned around to the cash register and Al got a full view of what he thought of now as her magical hairpin.

It was definitely magical, and he'd been right that there were designs carved into it. They looked a little bit like runes, but nothing like what he'd studied at Hogwarts. It was striking in her dark hair and Al briefly was tempted to ask if he could hold it. But Ellie turned around with his card and receipt.

"Then I guess I'll see you the next time you want another omelet." As she handed back his card, her fingers brushed against his and Al resisted the urge to grab her hand.

"Brilliant," was all Al managed to say before Ellie pulled away and Al was left wishing that it wasn't quite so cold out. He was no longer interested in numbing his brain. He was interested in keeping it functioning so he could figure out how to ask Ellie out on a date and maybe find out if she was a witch.