#benchmates

[kalpalatas]

every time i get nostalgic about working in a lab again i am violently humbled

[saltcherry]

did not go to lab cleanup because my advisor said I didn’t need to and I feel a little guilty about it but not very guilty because I truly don’t have the energy to do hard chores for 1.5 hours picking up after people who are not me

[chichilla-life-sciences]

OXFORD BenchMate Micro Centrifuge

This OXFORD BenchMate Micro Centrifuge Closed rotor ensures better airflow and greater efficiency with quiet operation and low heat generation. This also helps to ensure stability for temperature sensitive sample.

Speed Accuracy +/- 100 RPM. The small footprint saves valuable benchtop space. The unit is suitable for use in hoods and cold rooms. Carbon dust insulation and safe drainage provisions incorporated into the design. Designed for Quick Spin Applications – Versatility, simplicity, and safety in a single unit.

Simple Cleaning – Easy-to-clean drain in case of sample spillage.

Rotor and Tube Versatility – 8-place 1.5 mL/2.0 mL microtube rotor and 16-place PCR tube rotor included. Simple Operation and Fixed Speed – Digital display with 6,000 rpm (2,000 x g) fixed speed.

[iveriee]

tom riddle x sub ! clingy ! reader

( headcanons )

— no mention of reader's gender. tom is a toxic fucking bastard. reader is desperate. emotional manipulation. kind of fluffy. sexually explicit material in the nfsw section. oral. sadism. slight crack. aftercare (?). crumbs of sub ! tom. pulled this one out of my drafts aswell. NOT PROOFREAD !! can be read as a summarisation / alternate universe of escape.

— he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or flattered, for you rarely let him get out of your sight — often clinging to him like a parasite, head buried in his chest, arms wrapped around his neck.

— at first, he finds it endearing how you pout whenever he leaves. you're like an accessory to him — a prized possession that can't live without him.

— you take his hand, oh-so-gently and kiss him every single day. you tell him everything about your day, from the tiniest fragments to entire events.

— and it's nice of you — it really is. but unfortunately it is getting tiring.

— it is getting tiring to listen to your rambles, he thinks as you go on a tangent about how you accidentally spilled ink over your benchmate and how they 'overeacted'.

— you're like a bug now.

— weak. needy. pathetic.

— and he has no time for people with such characteristics, he cannot afford to.

— so he begins to ignore you. slowly but surely he does.

— and you grow crazy.

— why is he ignoring you? what did you do even do? did you mess up?

— you try to talk to him but he doesn't pay any attention.

— fuck. fuck. fuck.

— you always mess things up. you should've never overstepped his boundaries. you should've never clung to him like a fucking parasite. you never should have.

— so you do something you never should have done. again.

— ( you'll never change, will you ? )

— you beg for forgiveness on your knees — tears streaming down your cheeks.

— and he smirks ever so slightly. a sort of sadistic delight jolts through him.

— he pats your head and tells you there's no need to act this way — and that you're being silly.

— this fucker, you think before nodding at his words.

— he fucking ignored you and now he's saying that you're being silly for complaining ?

— you decide to let it be and focus on the positive aspects: you have him back now.

— (..presumably.)

— and so it happens again — you hug him so tight that your arms begin to sore. you tell him about your day. (albeit less), you kiss his cheeks and you gawk at his intelligence and you're...happy.

— or are you?

— because beneath all that affection, you are hollow.

— he can't love you, no, — but he'll accept your affection. it strokes his ego, probably.

— and you don't mind as much as you thought you would.

* what if you try to make him jealous ? or cheat on him. ?

oh merlin. you're screwed. done for. ended. dead. because, (i) it's highly unlikely that he'll fall for your pretense and (ii) if he somehow does, he'll make sure to make that fucker's life a living hell and perhaps yours too. how dare you fucking betray him for some piece of worthless shit? how the fuck could you?

he wasted so much of his time on you. so much of his time that could've been utilised. and yet he spent it reassuring you of your worth, listening to your tangents, helping you, and being..yours. you were his, obviously, but even more surprisingly, he was, in some twisted way, yours too.

and now you cheated on him. after he took the time to be vulnerable with you, after he exposed his true colours to you, after you peeled back his cold exterior. (after he let you pepper kisses all over his face and boop his nose!)

he thought he was the cruel one. but it seems you are. and you're not just cruel, no, — you're a fucking monster. something he never thought he'd use to describe you. a word usually reserved for him, back at that stupid muggle orphanage.

* how would he react to you being thoughtful and remembering the tiniest things about him ?

he'd be flattered, really — it's his most common reaction to your shenanigans, after all. he does indeed love having his ego stroked and your dedication to him would surely do that. you remembered how he prefers using fountain quills ? how endearing. you remembered his favourite colour, his favourite subject, his boundaries, his interests—

still, it's adorable. how you take the time to memorize everything about him in that pretty little head of yours. but that's not all. let's say — you remembered his..... birthday. actually, fuck no. he hates his birthday and would probably give you a nasty glare before walking off.

there are certain things that he doesn't want you knowing, obviously and if you find out, he'll obliviate you or if he can't do that, he'd ghost you or threaten you, depending on what you know. ("love. how can you even say that I went to the girl's lavatory? you have no reason to think that. and no, i absolutely was not being a cree— what are you even on about?")

but still, I'd say his outlook would usually be positive.

* how would he react to you being jealous ?

— he would be, to say the least, amused. it would mean that you do indeed care about him. perhaps a bit too much...

— he taps his nails against his desk smugly as you pout in your classic fashion and yell at him. tom doesn't understand how you feel even a twinge of the hot, burning embarassment you are supposed to feel when acting so utterly ridiculous.

— when you finally stop ( and merlin it is after a long time when you do ) there might aswell be smoke puffing out of your nose.

— he takes your flushed cheeks and squishes them, hands digging into your flesh. when you groan out in protest, he shhs you as if you are a fucking child.

— "you're jealous." he whispers, his lips curling. and he knows he's right, by the way your eyes divert and your breathing turns ragged.

— "trust me, i am yours. why would you think that way? do you not trust me?" he then smoochs your forehead and FUCKING LEAVES !!!! the bastard leaves.

— he can't help but chuckle as he walks out. you are mortifying. ridiculous. stupid. and oh so naive. you are all of that indeed. and worse, even.

— alas, he cannot leave you. you are entertaining. overly so. ( and because he loves you but he would never admit that)

* what if you comfort him because of his past ? what if you just can't handle that the person you love had to suffer ?

he'd be... astonished. despite feigning displeasure, he would be, in somewhere deep in his heart, utterly and completely, — flattered. you. sweet you. hugging him — apologizing for something you were not even apart of. sniffling, hands softly trailing across his cheeks. you had always been affectionate, yes — but this? nobody had done this for him.

and for that, he leans into your touch; your sweet, honey-dripping kisses and words. he feels strange. a strange kind of heat creeps up his body and he doesn't know if he hates it or if he loves it. all he knows that you're the reason why the sudden warmth erupts in his stomach in the first place. you. you.

he's scared. so scared. scared that he might aswell peel back all the boundaries he's been keeping for long, held together by his sheer unwillingness to show a fleck of vulnerability. he doesn't want you thinking he's weak and even more, that...he loves you.

nfsw.

— oh shit.

— you are eager — really eager.

— and he doesn't know how to react to it.

— his drive really isn't all that high, so you have to be the one to initiate it.

— most of the time, you let him take the lead and do he wants to.

— he fucking LOVES teasing you in public places.

— he'll trail his fingers across your thighs in the midst of a class and tell you to be quiet when you whimper ever so slightly.

— and it's torturous — how he coaxes involuntary gasps out of you. how he does not give a flying fuck about your dignity.

— what can you do but sniffle and grip the table tightly, lips trembling? merlin, you want, no, need him. and there's a hot, gashing fire inside of you — all consuming, heavy and ravenous .

— he likes giving you oral too. maybe even more than he likes recieving it.

— he'd drag his tongue between your legs and you'd cry out his name and grab his hair even more tightly, all while he never breaks eye contact. you'd be the one sobbing and breathless, not him — despite him being on his knees.

— it somehow brings him satisfaction to know that you'll always be beneath him.

— he's not that great at aftercare — he doesn't know how to 'comfort' you, so he just holds you suffocatingly tight until you fall sleep.

* would he let you take control ?

not reeeeally ?? yes but also no. he'd let you be in charge occasionally, of course, but if you tried to convince him again, he'd merely chuckle and roll his eyes. ("no, love — i'm not letting you tie me up again. not after what you did. and don't try to manipulate me with those puppy eyes.")

but secretly, he would enjoy it. although he'd die rather than admit it. your eyes seem to light up whenever he says that you can take the lead and obviously.. you're quite enthusiastic and this enthusiasm translates...strangely during the act. he finds that he doesn't mind, closing his eyes and lying back for once. but it is so very mortifying to beg you for more.

[0x1lovebot]

hell’s kitchen 🔥

minho — culinary student and the next gordon ramsey (self claimed). cooking is his passion he doesn’t play around. he’s a TOTAL SWEETHEART… once you get to know him ofc. to other people he comes off as serious and cold but with his friends he’s a big softie!! he loves taking care of them even though he acts like he doesn’t. he usually sings or dance on his free time. when it comes to cooking he likes doing things his way which makes him not the best partner.

hyunjin — art student. sucker for romance! loves cheesy rom-com movies and always gets his friends to watch them with him. they act like they hate it but they’re liars. he doesn’t really have a job but he sells some of his pieces to make money. people love his oil paintings. when he graduates he wants to be an art teacher. has serious cuteness aggression. he’s really nice to everyone he meets and very easy to talk to.

felix — culinary student #2. he just so happens to be benchmates with minho as well. they’ve been friends since high school. this man is the acts of service king! it’s his love language, especially baking for people. he loves baking for his friends. very sweet and kind to everyone he meets. he spends any free moment he has gaming. roblox addict.

jisung — singer songwriter and major music nerd. he loves making music and sharing it. he doesn’t really care about making it big. has a huge record collection and is always trying to add to it. works at plant co. full time to fund his record collection. very unserious person. loves to crack jokes in situations where jokes should not be cracked.

jeongin — cashier at a record shop. he actually met minho and his friends while he was on the clock. jisung was wreaking havoc in the store😭. out of all of them he’s the most normal. he’s introverted so he doesn’t really like talking to people but he’s very helpful and understanding. he’s also the main victim of hyunjin’s cuteness aggression. another music nerd. this boy will eat anything so minho and felix always go to him when they want to test out new recipes.

← masterlist →

🔖 — @savgogh @gongiz @ferxanda @binchanluvrr @realrintaro @estella-novella @tinyelfperson

© 2024 copyright. all rights reserved. @0x1lovebot.

[akawrites000]

when two people meet and they belong together on some level - a prompt list

again, this can be used for anyone - close friends, s/o, crushes. please feel free to change pronouns as you see fit :)

A and B are benchmates, and by the end of the lecture, they've managed to become more than strangers, and people with common interests. They exchange numbers - "can I have your full name?" "sure, but why?" "I just like to store the full names of people's contacts that I'm going to save."

A has never eaten out with their new friend before, so they're pretty nervous because they eat differently? compared to the locals. "i'm sorry, but can I eat with my hands? I just feel more comfortable doing it." B just smiles kindly at A, and A immediately feels at home, despite being miles away from it. "of course you can, please be comfortable!"

A introduces their cuisine to B and B absolutely loves it. "I can't believe I've never had this before!" "do you like it?" " of course! this is easily one of the best meals I've had in my life". Then they both grin at each other and continue to spend the upcoming hours in the restaurant, smiling, chatting away and having a jolly time. (the restaurant people are nice because they don't get kicked out xD)

A teaches B how to eat food from their cuisine and B follows obediently. A is so impressed by B's efforts, just looks at B with a fond smile while B is busy trying to eat the food correctly. "am I doing this right? can I eat this with both hands?"

B invites A over to their place for Halloween and A is so pleasantly surprised, that they can't believe it. "You're inviting me over? really?" "of course! I'd love to have you over if you'd like to come!" A later gets to know that B themselves was a transfer student who went to another country to study, so they can understand the feelings of an international student. A was just so touched and couldn't stop smiling.

It's A's first Halloween and B watches them smile and get excited about everything with a fond look on their face. A turns to them, almost shy, "um, i- I didn't really bring any Halloween clothes," and B has to try really hard to hold in their laugh because A was just being really cute right now. "I can help with that," - B finds a pair of cute purple socks and a headband for A to wear and A's excitement lights up B's entire evening.

"so, do you invite people often?" you seem to be a really good host." B, surprised, "ah, thank you for saying that, but actually, no, I don't." A smiles at the answer and they continue watching the movie playing on the tv, a comfortable distance between them, feeling warm despite the cold winds outside.

B watches A order their usual and smiles at them, "hot chocolate as usual?". A nods, happy with their favourite drink in hand. "What are you getting?" B points to their plate, "oh, just a plate of strawberry cheesecake, I really like these." A makes a mental note of it.

At the cafe again, weeks later, after class, "one hot chocolate and one strawberry cheesecake please!" B just stares at A, dumbfounded, "you remember!" "of course I do!"

"do you want to talk? I don't want to go home just yet." A and B walk over to a bench on their campus and proceed to talk into the evening until A had to catch a bus back home.

A spots a duck upside down in a pond and immediately texts B (who's absent that day) - "uhh, a duck is upside down and I'm worried about it." A doesn't know but B was wheezing while texting back, " that's normal don't worry, it's just feeding." A lets out a breath of relief, "thank goodness! I haven't seen a lot of ducks in my hometown." "I can tell."

A and B compare their hand sizes, after which B holds A's (much smaller) hand. "your hands are so small, no wonder you get cold easily!" A just smiles happily and holds B's hand tighter.

A and B spend the whole day together and then can't stop thinking about it after. "is it weird that I'm grinning, still thinking about how fun today was?" "no, because I'm still thinking about it too."

[justyoursimpleflower]

Pumpkin's Father And Your Lover

Pairing :- Sirius Black x reader

Word count:- 2.7k

Summary:- Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker

Warnings:- swearing, some sexual tension, i think that's all?? Tell me if you find more

A/N:- Hello everyone! Yes, I have started writing again after one and half years and you can guess i am really rusty so be kind please. Also, I am opening my requests, if you want to, drop in some, characters can be either marauders, except peter, billy Russo, tasm!Peter Parker or aleksander morozova. Thank you! Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

The Great Hall echoed the chatters of students from all the houses. Some hushed whispers and some loud laughs, some bright smiling faces and some silent tear stained faces.

Your body shook with giggles induced by a certain sarcastic prefect from Gryffindor, you were met with a nudge on the knee from the victim of the remark who was pretending to give you a glare.

You just grinned at him and got one in the reply.

You still didn't believe how the cliché meeting with the raven haired boy had turned into this, this beautiful friendship.

When in your fifth year you met this gorgeous owner of the gorgeous eyes, you never would have guessed where it'd take you.

"Mr.Black that's enough!"

"But it wasn't me, professor! I swear it wasn't me this time!"

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Your benchmate, or to be precise, Remus Lupin, the embodiment of a disciplined, sweet, honest guy had been flying paper planes from the last ten minutes of the transfiguration class, making them land beside the professor's desk.

Oh and if that wasn't enough, they were charmed as when they landed, the paper shredded into fragments while in the voice of the victim, Sirius Black, a very bad redemption of ' D'yer Mak'er ' would sound out in the class.

Somehow, one day Remus Lupin sat next to you, a trade of your giggles and his witty remarks was made and now both of you were benchmates.

"Well then who was it?" Mcgonagall asked.

"I don't know, professor! Obviously someone who hates you! And you know that can't be me, I love you with my whole heart!" You snorted behind your hand at his imitation of puppy dog eyes. He was definitely good at it.

"One more time Mr.Black, and you would be serving a week's detention."

"But professor —"

"Enough!"

"Everyone back to work!" And with that, the students went back to work while you were still giggling with the sandy haired boy next to you.

"I can't believe you are so cruel to him, he is your friend!" You asked in fake shock and a grin on your face.

"Well that's what he gets for stealing my chocolates." The boy snorted.

"I knew it!"You both were startled by the sudden voice from behind you.

Sirius was standing behind you both glaring at you two.

"Mr.Black, why are you shouting in the class?" Professor asked furiously.

"Professor, it was Remus who was doing it all! I just heard him saying that!"

Remus and you both turned back towards the professor, with guilty looks on your face and accepting the accusations.

Mcgonagall looked disappointed but just shook her head.

"Mr.Lupin, I would expect better from you, but that would be wrong since you are part of this baboon group."

"Professor!" Four different voices shouted at the same time.

"Professor, we are 'The Marauders'." Peter said, puffing out his chest, followed by the other three.

Mcgonagall just shook her head and said,

"Alright, Mr.Lupin, shift back to your place with Ms.Evans and Mr.Black you take Mr.Lupin's previous place."

"But—but why?" Sirius shouted, his eyes wide.

"Well because I said so." Mcgonagall set him with a look that said no more arguments.

He sighed then said,

"But no detention for these two." You stared at him wide eyed.

Arsehole.

"Considering their previous records, no."

You smirked looked back at him with a look that said,

'suck it'

That was your first interaction with him and many more after that which lead you two here right now, near the lake sitting under a tree. Well you were sitting and he was lying next to you.

"Do you think the merpeople in the lake would be offended if we gave them fish food? Or if we give them our food."

"What I think is that Sirius, why are you thinking that, of all the things you can think of you thought to think about that thing."

"You hurt my brain."

"Surprised you have one."

He glared at you while you just grinned at him.

He closed his eyes and you were suddenly hit by the realisation how beautiful the boy next to you was.

It would be so easy to fall in love with him. Sirius was, if not the most, one of the most beautiful guys you have met.He was charming, he was beautiful and most of all, he was caring, in his own way. You were jealous of the girls who could touch him in a way that you could never, girls who had the opportunity to look in those eyes and get lost in the cosmos held behind them, girls who could hear his raspy voice, the breathy whispers that escaped him the haze of pleasure.

You closed your eyes and tried to shake off the image in your head. Your palms were suddenly getting sweaty and you felt suffocated.

A small mewl sounded near you. Shaking you out of the daze he put you in, and hadn't even done anything yet. Sirius sat up and looked around, like you, to find the source of voice.

Looking around, your eyes found a pair of big brown eyes staring at you and mewling. Standing up, cautiously you made your way towards the feline and bent to scoop her in your arms. The little kitten was calm, nuzzled her head in your arms making you coo at her.

Sirius, surprised by the sudden change in your demeanour, stood up and made his way towards you, kneeling beside looking at the small animal in your arms.

The ginger white fur poked out of you embrace and a soft expression masked your features as you gently caressed the fur.

He was jealous. He was jealous of the feline and how it had taken her so little time to take you away from him. But at the same time he was thankful. He was thankful because sitting there, kneeling beside you he could see the sunlight reflecting from your hair, the soft tug upwards of your lips, the pretty smile he longed to watch at every waking moment, the soft gentle eyes he would love to get lost in and never to find a way out of. It was maddening how much he adored you. He adored you more than he could feel, you made his heart feel full, and yet always light like it was filled with nothing but love for you. You made him feel drunk on the oldest wine, always in that daze, but he had never tasted one.

It would be so easy right now. So easy to learn forward and brush his lips to your cheek, so easy to tangle his fingers in your hair, so easy just to close his eyes and get lost in the dream in which you were his.

He snapped out his daze when you called his name.

"Siri, look, she's so cute, isn't she?" A soft smile plastered on your face, you looked at him and he wished that you would always look at him like that. He raised his hand to brush it against the fur of the kitten, who raised her head from your arms and nuzzled it around his fingers.

Choked on emotions a raspy hum sounded out of him.

The kitten now had her whole attention on him. Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, she jumped out of your arms, towards him.

Acting on instinct, Sirius caught her mid air and brought her to his chest while both of you stared at her, wide eyed and with wild expression, she just mewled and snuggled close to him.

"Merlin, she nearly gave me a heart attack." Sirius breathed out.

Now that you were out of shock of the stunt the little creature pulled, you watched as Sirius pulled her closer to his chest and how he ran his fingers to her fur.

"Aw, look at that. The bad boy, player Sirius Black turning soft for a small kitten." You cooed, pinching his cheek.

A warmth spread over Sirius at your gesture but quickly recovered and countered back,

"I am not getting soft."

"You are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Not."

"Are."

"Ha! Gotcha ya."

He scowled but you saw a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Very mature darling, very mature."

"Learnt from you, darling boy."

Sirius was sure if you called him that one more time he was going to combust. He swallowed the lump of emotions and took a shaky breath, calming himself down.

Merlin, what have you done to him.

"Oh, is that so?" He raised a brow at you, a smirk adorning his face now. There he was. The cocky Sirius Black you knew. And you also knew nothing good came out when his voice changed to that tone.

He slowly set down the kitten from his arms to the ground beside him, who quietly obeyed and sat there without much fuss and meowed at him.

"You want to take it back, love?"

Fuck. Why is that so hot?

"What do you mean, Siri?"

Oh he is dead. But so are you.

And then, hell broke loose. His fingers worked around your ribs, making you giggle uncontrollably. He kept working his fingers around you and then one moment he was sitting beside you, the other, you were splayed over the grass and his body hovering over yours with his hands now splayed along your sides.

As your giggles died, you opened your eyes only to be met with silver ones, staring back at you. Your breath hitched and maybe his did too. The intensity by which his eyes bore into your, taking in all your features at once. His eyes stopped at one point and you knew what was going through his mind.

If you just leaned enough…

You both broke out of trance when a mewl from beside you erupted making you both look at the feline who probably didn't like the lack of attention. It made you both giggle but something changed in the air, and you both knew it.

"I can't believe you are taking her as a pet."

"Well believe it, because I am." You countered back.

A tsk sound from your left and you looked at the bespectacled boy next to you and frowned.

"What?" You asked, irritation evident in your voice.

"You are hurting our dear Sirius." James said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. You raised your brow in question

"You are breaking his heart." Remus joined in.

"You should know better." Peter contributed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked Remus, only acceptable one to give the answer.

"A cat for a dog, really?"

That made all the occupants of the group laugh out loud. Your voices echoing over the great hall, making everyone dining in, give you an odd look.

"Shut it, Lupin." The victim grumbled from your other side.

"Aw, don't be mad Siri, Pumpkin loves you." You cooed, pinching his cheek.

You could feel the heat rise on his cheek but chose to not comment on it.

"Pumpkin? Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Well, then you should have suggested me names, when I asked you."

Before the argument could get more heated, Lily butted in and asked a real question.

"How did you get the permission to keep her?"

You shrugged your shoulders and looked at Sirius's side.

"He asked for permission, ask him."

Sirius looked a bit hesitant and then said,

"I…have my ways."

Unbeknownst to you the other three marauders shooted smirks towards him which he countered by a subtle gesture.

"You went through all that, just for a cat."

"Not for a cat, wormtail, for the love of his life." James replied back in a sing-song voice earning a smack on his head by the raven haired boy.

In the secrecy of the dorm now, Sirius told the marauders about how he got the permission to keep the cat.

"You went to Minnie, begged on knees to her, then to Dumbledore and did the same for that cat. Wow, Padfoot you must really love that cat." Remus teased the boy earning a kick on his shin.

Sirius grumbled something under his breath, making all the marauders give him a questioning look. When he noticed, a blush crept up his neck and he repeated his words, much more coherently.

"Not a cat, 's Pumpkin."

A loud laughter echoed from the boys dormitory.

Whilst downstairs, Pumpkin was getting restless and was trying to scratch every object in sight.

"Oh my, what are you doing?" You exclaimed taking her away from the table which had a scratch mark on one of its legs.

You were getting irritated by her behaviour and were about to ask Lily what to do when the feline ran out your arms towards the boys dormitory stairs.

Wide eyed you quickly ran, following her.

In the seventh year boys dormitory, a panicked Peter was looking at James being pinned down by a furious Sirius, sitting next to an amused Remus. All that brawl being started by a simple comment such as

"You are worse than me with Lily." By the pinned down boy.

That was the scene you walked in on. Pumpkin supposedly wanted to see Sirius and somehow knew where to go, leading you to walk in that scene.

"What the hell?" Your surprised words apparently broke them out of trance, making them look at you.

You scooped Pumpkin in your arms, who was still restless, and looked at all of them, James and Sirius now returning to sit on the floor.

"Why was James being pinned down by you, Sirius? Am I missing something?" You asked, looking wide eyed at them.

It was James who spoke, panic evident in his eyes,

"What — no—what are you saying— no, shit, I was just teasing him about his feeling for you—"

Everyone fell silent after that except your kitten. Everyone stared wide-eyed at James, while some had amusement in their eyes (Remus, Peter) some had horror (Sirius, You).

Oh. Oh.

You knew that feelings were mutual. You just wanted confirmation. You knew he would never say anything, you knew because of his past, he was scared, he had told you, had broken in your arms. So you will have to, no matter how much it scares you.

Moving towards where he was sitting, you kneeled in front of him, Pumpkin slipping out your arms towards his lap.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the other leave the room.

He was not looking at you, but his fingers had absent mindedly started running through the kitten's fur.

It was now or never.

Gathering all you courage, you asked,

"Is it—was it true—what James said?" He was still not looking at you, but you could see his shoulder tensing and for a moment you were scared. You were scared that maybe you were wrong. But then he nodded his head. It was barely a movement but it was.

Relief flooded through you and you took a shaky breath. Oh how many times had you dreamed about this moment. Your happiness was unexplainable at that moment. It was much more thrilling to know that he felt the same rather than an instinct.

You lifted your hand, touching his cheek, making him look at you.

"Then, Mr.Black, would you do me an honour of sharing custody of Pumpkin with me? Would you do me an honour of being Pumpkin's father?"

You saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes and the way they lit up at your words. Setting Pumpkin at side, he took your face in his hands and kissed you. And it was nowhere near your imagination, it felt well beyond and you couldn't be more happy.

You both didn't stop until a mewl sounded from beside you, making you both huff out a laugh when the small feline crawled between you two.

You looked up at Sirius who just smile and said,

"I would love to be Pumpkin's father and your lover."

[moonstruck-poet]

Soft Spot

Pairing - Severus Snape x platonic!reader, Wolfstar x daughter!reader

Summary - Severus Snape, the sworn enemy of Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black maybe does indeed have a soft spot for their only daughter.

Warnings - teasing, bullying

Requested by - @roselilasstuff Hope this is good enough and thank youu<33

It was early morning, the rays of the sun just peeking over the lush green mountains to shower the world with warmth. The golden light clashed with coppery-brown irises, making them look like pools of melted honey.

You smiled from your place on top of one such small hill overlooking the gorgeous, crystal blue lake of Hogwarts.

Half an hour more, you muttered to herself. Thirty minutes more till a new school day will begin, till the Great Hall would be filled with the chattering of students, till you would once again be the object of non-stop staring.

You sighed bitterly. Five years had passed but to no avail. Every year brought new students who proved to be worse than the previous ones.

"There you are!" George Weasley's voice broke through her inner turmoil as he came sauntering towards you, slightly breathless.

"Morning George," a smile replaced that resentful frown. "What brings you here this early in the morning?"

"Nothing just wanted to talk to you," he grinned suspiciously making you narrow your eyes at him. "Come on," he urged and you let yourself be pulled by one of the few friends you had successfully made.

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

"Got a new one scarface?" Pansy Parkinson, a measly third-year yelled as soon as you set foot in the Hall.

You rolled your eyes, keeping them straight while making your way towards the Gryffindor table. But suddenly it seemed as though millions of eyes were burning holes on your neck, right where you had indeed gotten a thin but long scar.

"Five points from Slytherin, Ms Parkinson," McGonagall said sternly and shot a sharp glare towards the younger girl who merely scoffed before smirking.

Sitting down at the table in your own secluded corner, you piled up your plate with whatever was within reach, not bothering to ask anyone for some syrup or jam.

Your eyes flitted to your timetable to check what all classes were awaiting you and you smiled amidst a huge bite of bacon. There was double potions today and in spite of it being one of the most hated subjects, you were proud to have excelled in it.

So as soon as the clock sounded, signalling the start of classes, you wasted no time in swinging your backpack on your shoulder and darting out of the hall. Your fellow classmates too followed your lead, not wanting to face the wrath of the Potions Master at the beginning of the day.

The dungeons were always particularly cold, so a black leather jacket, obviously a gift from your dad was snug over your frame, providing a great comfort. However your Papa's sweaters would always be the best, not that you'd tell the former about that.

Grinning at the thought of your parents you pushed open the door and sat in your allocated places which was not favoured by the others who wanted to sit with their best friends. Though you didn't seem to mind as you always worked better alone.

But maybe luck was indeed on your side as you had gotten a pretty good benchmate.

"Nice to see you smiling," Cedric Diggory laughed and sat beside you, taking out his textbooks and keeping them neatly on the table, his action mirroring yours.

"Why thank you, Ced," you chuckled back but then winced as your cheeks stretched, leading to a burning sensation from one of your fresh scars.

The Hufflepuff looked concerned but you shook him off, giving him a tight smile. The last thing you wanted to for someone to overhear and start a rant about how delicate and fragile you were.

The doors suddenly slammed shut and in strode Severus Snape, black robes billowing dramatically as he walked towards the board and flicked his wand.

The class watched in silence as instructions began appearing of the potion they were supposed to brew today. He then turned around swiftly, his dark beady eyes scanning every face to spot any shenanigans but thankfully every person was focussed.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation," he spoke, his voice barely above a mutter but it was carried evenly throughout as the class listemed with rapt attention.

"Be warned, if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing," Snape paused and upon receiving several nods he gave them an approval to start.

Everybody immediately hustled around to grab the ingredients, but it was all done in a systematic way thanks to the presence of a teacher who you wouldn't ever want on your bad side.

"Alright then should I get a ingredients and supplies? You're much better at this than I am," Cedric scratched his neck with a shy smile and you nodded in reassurance.

"Yep that'll work, thank you".

After an intense amount of time along with the passing of several strange incidents, it was time to stir the potion seven times both clockwise and anticlockwise and then allow it to simmer.

"Five, six, seven.. done," Cedric muttered and then checked his watch for a timer of exactly seven minutes. "And now we wait".

You sighed and pushed your slightly moist hair away from your face, "Now we wait".

The boy beside you suddenly went rigid and you looked up quizzically to only get the reason for his stiffness.

Snape was now taking rounds through the classroom as the potion was to be ready soon enough and you too looked at him nervously as he scanned your cauldron with narrowed eyes.

But then to your surprise his eyes actually softened and his hardened face relaxed. Cedric was nearly jumping with joy on receiving a nod from the teacher which most certainly was one of the highest forms of praise you could get from him.

"You must add the hellebore now, lower the flames and then allow the potion to simmer for exactly seven minutes," Snape's sharp voice snaked through the soft chatter. "If brewed correctly, the potion would emit a silver vapour".

"Godric have mercy," you whispered and lowered the flames while Cedric put on the timer and you both held your breaths, burning holes in the cauldron.

"Time's up!"

There were many mixed reactions, but a majority were definitely unhappy with whatever the hell they managed to brew. It certainly did not look like the draught of peace or even close to it.

You two simply stared as slowly silvery grey fumes were coming from the cauldron and gour face stretched wide in a triumphant grin while he bounced slightly on his feet, feeling so elated that he pulled you in a victory hug which you were more than happy to join.

Unknown to everybody else, the Potions Master allowed a small smile, or actually a slight twitch of lips to escape his stone cold persona. He was undeniably proud at the not so small achievement on one of his finest students. Yes, one of his finest.

He had trouble admitting it to himself but after all it wasn't fair to judge someone based on their family. He had experienced that first hand and was now making an effort to be a more decent person.

Atleast in the case of you. Speaking of Harry James Potter, that was a much bigger problem seeing as he totally loathed that child.

"Five points to Gryffindor," he muttered under his breath when you submitted the vial filled with the perfectly brewed concoction.

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

[kdramastrix]

I'm in my Kang Yohan feels so I'm going to talk about him now and make it everyone's problem.

Thinking about how Kang Yohan has always loved, loved, loved so enormously, selflessly, without a single expectation. Without ever demanding anything in return. That too, from a very young age.

Everyone he ever loved, he never dared to hope for it be retaliated. Never. Not once. Abandoned just because he was born, I think he just assumed he was an unwanted entity that no one wanted the burden of. That because he was so disgusting for just existing, it would be silly for him to ever imagine the prospect of love. And then his father's attitude and his mere presence in mansion cemented it in him that he was only capable of love, never deserved to have it back.

He loved his Nanny but never expected her to treat him like a son. He loved Isaac but never expected him to understand him. He appreciated the girl in his class who wholeheartedly agreed to be his benchmate but never hoped for her to befriend him. He loved Elijah, so very much, so deeply, yet never even thought she'd love him back or value him enough to keep in her life.

His focus was always giving his best to the people he loved. Never receiving it.

Which is so heartbreaking to think about. Because it is innate to expect. It is innate to want to be loved back. It is a basic human need to feel cared for.

And yet, Kang Yohan never in his life thought he deserved that.

Then came along Gaon. For the first time, he asked to be chosen. He asked to be loved back. When he crudely suggested to Gaon to throw his friend out of his life and embrace him.

Only to be left again because he had suddenly dared. He had suddenly desired to be loved back, just a bit if not fully.

And look at where that got him.

Just. He deserves so much love. Life has been so cruel to him from the beginning, from the very first day. He was deprived of affection and warmth and yet he is so utterly full of it.

I wish nothing but all the great things in the world for him.

[awritersstuff]

Can i request leaders of Housen, Oya, Suzuran (Raoh faction), and three school alliance having a crush on their classmate in middle school and how they would confess? Thank you!

Guess who is back ! Thanks for requesting and sorry for the wait

My baby love!

Sachio -

- you where not exactly friends with sachio in the beginning but when his mom introduced you to sachio as his friends daughter and you guys became friends. Most of the time when your mother hung out with his mother you, sachio and yui will hang out together.

- He first time realized he liked you when you helped him patch up after a fight and he made you promise that you won't tell his mom but you being you gave him big scolded but still didn't tell his mom and then he realized that how you care about him and his mom .

- he will confess after some time when he knows that you are totally comfortable with .

- his confession was short and simple, when after another fight you were helping him patch up (and also scolded him) he should asked you " will you go on a date with me ?" .

Fujio -

- fujio always liked you , like since the movement he saw and he won't even try to hide it but the movement he realized that he truly loved you when he saw you beat some guys for HIM , like you absolutely hate fighting but you fought for HIM .

- like I said he is like a open book , he would be soooo obvious that HE LIKES YOU .

- his confession was right at the movement, you ended up beating the guys , he will straight up walk to you and say " let's date " . Like not even asking but telling .

Rao -

- like it is mentioned in the movie Rao didn't had any friends so , let's just say you were just classmates but he always had a crush on you because you were a caring person and according to him it is very cool . The movement he realized that you can't just stay classmates anymore is when he saw you helping a little girl from his orphanage and that's how he met you .

- he will wait a long long time until he knows that he is serious about you .

- he is a very chill and cool man so , some day he will just dropping you off to your house and he will ask you out in the most sweet way possible.

Amagai-

- he has a attitude of a bitch so if he likes you , he will bother you and bully you . Always tease you and always make fun of you to make it look like he absolutely hates and the cherry on top will be that your parents were business partners so he won't even leave you alone at home . He realized that you are the one for him was after all the mess of 'the worst x ' , when you told him "keep smiling, I like this amagai better" .

- he won't confess to you or become like normal friends with you he will just do something that your both parents fix your marriage together. There will be no enemies to friends or lovers but enemies to happy arranged marriage.

Sameoka-

- you guys were just normal benchmates but knowing sameoka he didn't talked much but he always loved listening to talks and sometimes when fujin or rajin mentioned it he will always deny saying that he only hear because he doesn't wanna upset you. He realized he liked you when your seats were switched and sat beside rajin and you both were talking and laughing . He felt like he was being cheated and then he did what he thought he should grabed your seat and kept it beside his and when the teacher asked him why he replied the teacher outside of school (ikyk).

- he is quite clear about his feelings but tends to hide until he is pushed to the limits.

- so , he confessed on like almost the last day of middle school when he realized that he won't get a chance later and he might lose you to someone else .

Reiji-

- he might seem crazy ( which he is ) but he was somewhat like the class clown in middle school not by choice but he just loved being the reason behind your smile . definitely threatened the teacher to make you both sit close and just like that everytime you laughed at his jokes how you never thought that he is weird but just himself, he knew that he fell for the right person . He was always serious about you.

- he won't take much time he just needs a little courage which gandhi will provide.

- his confession was very fun like he toke you to amusement park and proposed you on the gaint wheel when you both were on top .

Thanks for reading. Honestly never thought I will write for amagai but did it for you guys 🙃 . Anyways, love you , byeeeee ❤💖💖

[holdmymallowsweet]

A comedy show in the great hall

First, please let me point out how the students at the Hufflepuff table are eating orderly, seemingly engaged in polite conversation.

Well done, Hufflepuffs, you make me proud.

At the Griffindor table meanwhile, you have those two weirdos doing synchronised pantomimes(?). Notice how students on the opposite site of the table are packed in like sardines because no one wants to sit next to these clowns. Even their one sole benchmate is trying his hardest not to look in their direction.

However, nothing compares to what's going on at the Slytherin table, where they've seemed to have started a cult of sorts. They even indoctrinated a Ravenclaw.

Damn Slytherins and their dark magic

[neh-tik]

I have a friend, I lost a friend.

Well i lost her awhile back, I was just made aware of it today

I had a hard time digesting , i never got used to change that easily

It's been 7 years, we haven't spoken since, drifted apart in all honesty, different cities.

So when I heard the news, I was a little startled. You see I was meeting up with an old friend who informed me of this news, the previous night I was lost in nostalgia so I went through our old pictures, possibly my favorite academic year or school year. I saw her, wondered how she was doing and that was all.

I have a friend, I thought of her and that was all.

I thought it wouldn't effect me, its been 7 years like I said.

Affect it did,

Tonight, all I could think about was her, her small frame unable to bear with the thought of shouldering it all, unable to continue living.

Well I remember her like that- like a kid, cause that's what we were, kids.

Last time we met atleast.

I couldn't help thinking though, would she be here right now if I didn't move out?

Would I be able to make her hold on, even for a little longer?

Would my presence make anything different?

I like to feel important like that I assume.

We were close her and I, we all were are in a way. It was a class of 11 people of course we were close. 

I have a friend, I can only think of her now.

I can't sleep, I can't help but imagine how she felt in her final moments. I want to know.

I'm imagining it and I hate it. I want it to stop, make it stop, please make it stop.

I'm imagining her terrified and little, little, little. She was always shorter than me.

We were benchmates, we were in the same group for an activity. We messed around a whole lot, but there was a distance which both of us didn't acknowledge, I daresay we preferred it that way.

I have a friend, I had a friend.

[ay-chuu]

Boy's a Liar

Pairing: Skater boy!Jamil viper x Fem!Reader

A/N: Got the idea from @fukashiin thanks a lot, really liked your Jamil and a gift to @senpaiofotome my dear, love you <3 I probably have lots of grammar mistake, please remember that english is not my first language

Word count: 2.5k / Fluff + Kinda angst.

You were still nervously sewing a trench coat when the digital clock showed 03:47 AM. Normally, you'd never stay in the sewing workshop until that hour, but that night you really needed to get over your anger at life, so you got permission from the boss to sew something for the whole night. She was surprised, but she didn't refuse, she just gave the key and shrugged. While you continued to sew nervously, no ordinary events happened.

Until you got a needle stuck in your hand, swearing and sucking the blood from your finger, you didn't even realize that you were starting to cry. Your mood should have been too bad to handle any other small bad detail. You're not surprised. It's been a shitty week. You didn't even know where to start. You were late for school on Monday and got scolded by the professor. On Tuesday, you failed the test that you worked on for 3 solid mornings and nights. You sprained your right arm on Wednesday. You had a fight with Riddle because you forgot about the club activity on Thursday. And today, because of your dear siblings excellent troubles, you lost the chance to buy a computer that you have been waiting with the campaign for 3 weeks because your mother made it clear that you should stay in the school dormitory for the weekend. But the worst thing is that you got into a fight with Jamil, whom you've been seeing and in love with since the beginning of high school.

Oh… Jamil… He's the hardworking quiet boy who quietly comes to class with his skateboard and everyone admires. Even the people he hangs out with rarely show up, it wasn't your fault to not to get caught up in his mysterious aura. He used to cross his arms together and listen to the lesson with furrowed brows, and even where he sat, he looked like an art painting. Long bun hair, pale and attractive skin, gray and slanted eyes… it shouldn't be surprising that he was popular. But Jamil either wasn't aware of his popularity or didn't care at all, because he usually hung out on his own and walked through the aisles with stern looks. Jamil was also someone who touched and saw the soul of a person. You can say this with sincerity since the day you met him. Maybe that's why you fell in love with that idiot. In the first history lesson you attended together and since Crewel made you sit next to each other, you were overstretched because Jamil's facial features gave such cold expressions that even just someone sitting next to him involuntarily stretched.

But that's the trouble, appearances… they're just like the bitter peel of a fruit. It never introduces a its taste to person. If you can peel that peel, then you can only enjoy that beautiful taste in fruit.

Jamil was that strong taste, in fruit…

When you were doing group homework with your benchmate friend in history class, you noticed that his mood was extremely tense and terrible, you saw that his skateboard was broken. Just like that, you said a help sentence between words while investigating the work.

“In the back streets there is a 2nd hand shop selling skateboards, roller skates and bicycles. I can show you where it is if you want.” You said that by surprising Jamil. When he looked up and looked at you with confused eyes, you shook your hands with a little tension and whispered the sentence “never mind. anyway…” and then continued doing the homework.

There was a very strange silence in between, and when you thought you had completely ruined your chances with the guy you liked, Jamil's conversation surprised you even more. “Actually, I would love to… I don't think I can afford a new skateboard.” He said, looking at you strangely, rubbing the back of his neck. You shook your head quickly while reciting a prayer to God to regulate your heartbeat. “Sure… whenever you're available.” said, trying to be calm. And then you swore that you had seen the most beautiful smile in the world.

You couldn't do anything but admire Jamil while his long hair was waving at the edge of his face and he was smiling while his slanted eyes were getting more slanted.

Ah.. the best bonds were always random but quick.

“Then how does it sound after school?”

“I didn't know you liked knitting.” Jamil said, looking at the knitting needles in your hand.

You were startled by his sudden voice. You couldn't tell if your heart was beating from nerves or excitement. Because with Jamil's voice, the peaceful atmosphere inside the library, your calm mood and your enjoyment of the quiet moment turned into stress and excitement very quickly. However, you calmed down when you realized the question Jamil was asking. He was right, you liked knitting. But maybe you didn't care so much anymore because being in the sewing workshop became a job for you.

“Oh… you're right, yes. Still, knitting feels like a routine now.” You said with a shrug. But Jamil seemed to be upset by what you said.

“That's bad.” He said, looking at you with eyes as if reflecting his disappointment. When he realized that you were staring him, you thought or imagined that you saw a slight sign of redness on your cheek.

“Well, I mean for you to make unhappy something you enjoy in life. This doesn't suit you.” while he speaks to you nervously. But when this sentence only made you more curious and excited, you couldn't stop the sentence coming out of your mouth.

“What do you mean, it doesn't suit you?” you said it quickly and in a voice that could not hide its excitement.

Until now, all you've been doing with Jamil has been working on lessons you don't understand and missing classes in the library or in a pergola in the garden. You were so sure that he saw you only as a working friend all this time that a comment on your character, a special comment that showed how aware he was of you, increased your accelerating heart as if it would come out of your chest now.

“You are… a passionate person. Even in the little work you do, you are someone who focuses a lot and does it with the peace of mind that comes from loving it… just like the other day you fed each of the stray cats equally and fairly. The essence of someone is hidden in their details. You were… a very concise person, and- anyway, it's not my place to make this comment after I really didn't spend time with you outside of class and didn't talk about the specifics about you… I'm sorry.”

And my god. You were really sure that your heart was separated from your soul that day and get put back. Even though you cursed from the bottom of your heart that Jamil's flushed face, furrowed eyebrows and beautiful stares had caught you off guard so much, you couldn't feel anything but a feeling that you couldn't make sense of with the name that the comment gave you.

"… We can spend time together whenever you want, you know.” You said in a low voice.

Jamil smiled brightly

“Are you free after this study session?”

You'd think the only weird feeling you couldn't name was anxiety mixed with fear. Because only that feeling would make your heart beat so strangely.

"You know, maybe I can teach you how to skateboard too," Jamil said as he ate the ice cream in his hand and looked at the rainy weather. Turning your head to him and raising one eyebrow, you replied sarcastically "In this weather? You seem to want my death…” “Well- I mean, logically, rainy weather is more slippery, you know.” "Yes, but I've never ridden a skateboard before, and if you don't know, this is a risk for me to hurt myself somewhere," you said, laughing calmly. But Jamil wasn't laughing at all. He didn't even realize that he had dropped his ice cream while taking one of your hands seriously in his both hands.

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” He said with a calm tone of voice and a deep look that looked all the way into your eyes.

But it's a feeling in love that you can't name. Because you won't understand until you live it.

That day, on the 7th date of you two, you realized that you were in love with him. You knew that you had only known the person you were talking about for 3 months, but how right was it to postpone feeling love to a person who was serious enough to say such words to you in just 3 months?

You got angry. You're SO angry. You couldn't even make sense of why you were so angry. Maybe it's the indifferent attitude and rude answers of your first love, but haven't you already experienced this with people you love and trust before? Well, the peoples used to trust… Perhaps that was the reason. After all these months and dates, after dedicating your heart to Jamil, you didn't want your trust to be broken again. No matter how small the reason for the fight was, you didn't want someone to make you feel that disgusting feeling again.

“I don't understand, I've been meeting you for 6 months, and not once in all that time have you made a joint project decision without my permission. You know how bad I am about polynomials, Jamil! I can't understand why you chose this because this is what you're best at, you've never seemed like a selfish person.” You said, raising your voice slowly. You were just trying to figure out why he did it and all you got were side-eye stares and cold sentences. However, you got a different reaction this time because the selfish word should have made that jamil angry.

“Don't you dare call me selfish.” “Then instead of giving me evasive answers, explain to me how to describe this action you have made.” “You are the irresponsible one. You stayed up late for class that day, falling asleep.” “Because some of us were studying for literature tests instead of sleeping, Mr. very knowledgeable.” “Then it's none of my business that some of us are impassive and retarded in some matters.” jamil said, shouting.

Idiot? Is that… is that what he thought about you?

You wanted to be able to get back the thoughts you were just thinking. Because you'd rather have your trust broken right now. Yes, because the breaking of your heart was definitely thirty times worse than the breaking of trust. You felt your breathing slow down, your tears filling up. Was love such a disgusting feeling? Why was it so changeable? You didn't know, but you hated how you felt. Your sudden silence must have brought Jamil to himself because suddenly his eyes returned to normal and he realized what he was saying. Just when he was reaching forward and trying to hold your hand, you took your backpack and left the classroom.

When you left the door, you ran to the toilet, sat on the toilet seat and locked the door, started sobbing quietly. If love makes you feel so shitty in your bad moments, you didn't want to feel it.

When the memory of the fight came back to your mind, your tears accelerated and began to fall into the palm of your hand. It made you realize that you were crying more. Still, you felt relieved inside, because the only thing that could make it easier for so many things to overlap was crying. That's why you just cupped your face and sobbed and let all the emotions flow through you. After a while, when you felt the vibration in your bag, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from your face and reached for the bag.

*Jamil &lt;3, 3 missed decals*

While your hand was shaking, you blinked at the phone like an idiot. Nevertheless, you took a deep breath and continued knitting the coat, not breaking your pride and putting music in your ears. He didn't care. After making you feel perfect for months, you weren't going to give what you wanted by responding to a person that would break your heart with a racial sentence. You put the phone on silent mode and all you heard was music. However, it would be a lie to say that you could get Jamil out of your head “Thay boy's a liar.” You thought. This time the phone started to vibrate with the sounds of lots of messages. You nervously reached for the phone and tried to grasp what you were reading while opening the lock screen.

“I know you're awake.” " If you hadn't been awake by now, you would have woken up and picked up the phone without realizing who I was and started cursing when you heard my voice. " " Where are you?” "are you at home?” " Please answer, I want to talk.”

While you were trying not to break the phone, you unlocked it to answer. Where was he after that fight? Because you've never seen him? And now again, he is again pulling "no one who knows you better than me" ? Fuck you, Jamil. Fuck you.

“Leave me alone." You locked the phone again after typing, but after the vibration session that came back, you grabbed it with a grip while trying to not getting worse mood.

Jamil: If you meet me at the park and just give me half an hour, I'll do it. You: No. If you don't want me to block you, stop texting. Jamil: Then I will call Najma and tell her to disturb you. If you block her, I'll call that Kamil bastard. If you block him, someone else. I'm not giving up. You: Fuck you. Jamil: You are not in the dormitory, there is no light in your room. Stay in the studio, I'm coming.

And so about half an hour later you heard a hard knock on the studio door 3 times and you started yelling at Jamil while jumping out of fear and opening the door in anger.

“I'M ALREADY HERE, WHAT THE FUCK.” you shout while Jamil was embarrassed at the entrance of the door by awkwardly putting his hand on his neck. “Oh… sorry.” He said when he saw your angry exit for the first time. You noticed the skateboard and the IPOD next to him. He looked at you as he nervously put his hands in his pockets. "Well, this isn't the best place to talk-“ “Oh i think it is” You said with crossed arms. Jamil pulled his arm from his neck apart with a sigh and grabbed your hands, while you tried to pull his hand away but when he hugged you, you couldn't understand what he was doing and you exhaled in surprise. “Look, I know you're angry. You're so right, but at least let me explain honestly. Please…”

And you knew deep down that you couldn't say no to him when he was cursing at yourself. “Fuck love. Fuck that kind of feeling.” You clenched your jaw while you were thinking. He left you and put one hand in your hand while he took his skateboard with the other hand. While he slowly took your jacket and put it on you, he pulled you out of the studio. He was holding your hand, your heart accelerated so much that your face started to blush, and you quickly pulled your hand away from him and made the excuse that you should lock up the studio before the situation got worse. Jamil seemed disappointed. You didn't care. That bastard deserved that.

You were both quiet the whole walk. You were just looking at the road and not looking at Jamil. Jamil, on the other hand, was plugging in his iPod, changing the music every once in a while and looking at you sometimes. His hand touched yours again several times, but you thought he pulled it off assuming he was scared. Finally, when you came to the park, you just sat on the bench and again did not talk about anything between you.

It was Jamil who broke the silence. “Well, how's it going, then?” he said, trying to deconstruct the strange mood between you, but when he got “are you serious?” stare, he was tense on the spot. “Okay, you want to get straight to the point, I get it.” He said as he took a deep breath. And damn, he fell silent again later.

As the anger inside you grew, you noticed that you were cold. Just when you were getting up in anger and planning to come back, Jamil grabbed your face and made you lift your face and look into his eyes. “No matter what I say, no matter what excuses I offer, my behavior on that day was never acceptable. I'm so sorry… I was just… I was just having a shitty week and, and-“ Jamil swallowed. "And I was so nervous when the plans of what I was planning to do that day were disrupted, which, God, it seems so stupid when I think about what I'm going to do… I, I just want us to make up. Please. I am so sorry.” He spoke so fast that for a moment you tried to grasp what he was saying. But obviously Jamil misunderstood this, and when you saw that his hands were starting to shake in your hands, you couldn't help but pity him. Like that, you've just forgived him, you were in love with this stupid skateboarding idiot, and you couldn't help yourself. You didn't want to experience anything else shitty this week. You wanted to feel good things.

Quietly, you took his hands and took them to your lips and kissed them “Well. I forgive you. But… I need you to explain that day to me.” you said it quietly. Jamil looked into your eyes while shocked at the gesture you made. “Did you… did you cry?” he said in an anxious voice. He spoke quietly as you looked at him in shock, surprised at how he understood. “It's just... when you cry that your nose gets red and eye bags.”

For a moment you couldn't understand what he was saying, but then you giggled slowly and snorted. "You know a lot about me, Jamil…" you said, looking at your hands united in embarrassment. There was an awkward silence Decked out in between. Jamil was looking at you admiringly, while you were just looking at your hands with your head tilted down. Until Jamil pulled one of his hands away and put it under your chin.

“Yes, it is, but do you know why?” he said, looking into your eyes. You felt your heart beating in your chest. It was very difficult to breathe at that moment. You began to tremble too much to form a sentence, and you said a single word, trying not to shake your voice. “W-why?”

And from that moment on, you swore that time was slowing down. “Let me explain myself, what I planned to do that day was to confess to you, but all the photos on the broken skateboard that I was going to give you as a gift were thrown away with it, by stupid kalim bastard. thinking it was 'garbage.' " Jamil said sadly, "The tension of the week and the disruption of the plan have driven me crazy. I blamed my feelings for you on this issue because I would never let such stupid things be made to me, but god, it's so hard when I'm with you. That's why I took my anger out on you… But the only thing I wanted to do that day was not to take my anger out, but my love out of me. I'm so sorry, jamali…" Jamil said while stroking your jawline with his hands.. He slowly leaned forward and brought his mouth closer to your lips. “ But I can't keep it to myself any longer. I can never bear to be without you. Because I'm in love with you. A lot indeed.”

You didn't know why you were shocked when you just stared him and suddenly grabbed Jamil's face and gently pulled him to your own lips.

His lips gave you the taste of that beautiful peeled fruit. When you put your hand gently on his cheek and bowed your head, you swore that you had entered heaven. You slowly returned to the real world, hearing the feeling disappear and leaning his forehead against yours, sarcastically asking you questions.

“I take that as a yes?” "Idiot… I love you too. Now shut it and kiss me.” You said while chuckling. The short and sweet kisses continued until Jamil cut it and stood up while held out his hand.

“It's 5 AM and I want nothing more then to show universe that I have opened up to you while shout out my happiness. Come with me.” and after that, since you put one of his airpods in your ear, you don't even remember how the time passed, all you know is that the sunlight slowly hit your face at sunrise, Jamil was trying to teach you skateboarding, you were screaming slowly, and he was laughing. The music in your ear, the warming air, Jamil's face and the smell of pine trees. You swore that you would remember these things for the rest of your life.

At one point, while you were riding the skateboard and giggling, Jamil stopped you and made his face serious “Hey, you didn't tell me why you were crying. Who has upset you? Me?” he said anxiously. “I don't know, I've already forgotten. " you said, chuckling happily even tought you knew the answer. You just didn't want to ruin the moment since it was in the past. Jamil repeatedly asked you about the same question in a different ways, while you just kept trying to ride the skateboard and giggling. He realized that no matter what he said, he would not get an answer. So he just grabbed your face and gently touched with his lips to yours, maybe for 20st time he said sorry with body language and calmed you down.

Maybe you were right. Jamil, that boy was a liar. But he's a sweet liar who lies enough to make you feel that there's no other important being but you.

And love at its worst was a disgusting taste that made your mouth bleed with pain. And strangely, that beautiful smell and taste that could take away that taste with itself again...

whew dude..i hate dumblr

[louisupdates]

Lido di Camaiore (Lucca), August 18, 2023 - The growing anticipation for Louis Tomlinson's concert in Lido di Camaiore is evident from two facts: first, as soon as you arrive at Benelli Village, the area that contains the Bussoladomani Arena, you can hear the pervasive music of rehearsals in the air. Second, hundreds of fans, the vast majority of them girls, are gathered on a stretch of cycle path that runs along what was once a plot of the Benelli family farm. The family once owned much of the real estate and gave its name to the neighborhood.

The first fans arrived on August 7: four Spanish girls between the ages of 18 and 23 who had camped in front of the Bussoladomani gate to be the first to enter. For several days, one turned a blind eye since camping on the public street— complete with sleeping bags and Canadian tents— would not be regular, but after all, there were only four polite and civilized girls, who did not leave dirt on the ground or cause any chaos. Then, from four, they became ten, and now they are at least two hundred, despite the fact that the concert is not until Saturday night. These fans were waiting many days to attend the Away From Home Festival for just a few hours, which after the first two editions in London and Malaga, landed at the Lido. The star of the evening will be Tomlinson, who judging by the good “fanaticism” of his supporters seems to have won the derby with former benchmate Harry Styles, whose fans in July had camped at the Campovolo in Reggio Emilia for “only” a week prior. Jokes aside, if Styles is now a world celebrity on the front line, it must be said that all the former One Direction members have had a good path after the breakup of the band, and now Tomlinson is a very successful soloist.

Returning to the fans, even the Mayor Marcello Pierucci went to visit them, satisfied to see so much enthusiasm and movement in an area that has experienced decades of abandonment and degradation despite being one of the touristic pearls of Tuscany. Some of the residents and holidaymakers— here most of the houses are second homes of Florentines, Prato, Pistoia, Pitoiesi, Lombards and so on— seem all in all willing to accept the temporary discomfort, between noise, traffic, parking bans and a day— that of Saturday— that has led some to temporarily leave their holidays and return home until Sunday,

The fans have been moved from what will in fact be the red zone of the concert area, and brought a few tens of meters further east, towards Via Trieste, where they camped with tents, umbrellas and sleeping bags in an enclosure built on the cycle path, under the pine trees to have shade, with chemical baths available. A few more hours, and then they will finally be able to reach the concert pit: all this effort, in fact, is aimed at only one goal, to attend the concert from the front row. Have a good show.

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun - Chapter 15

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, eventual smut

Chapter Summary: Grayson has a very uncomfortable meeting with Councilor Bone. Rynweaver addresses concerns about Academy spending to the Council. Katya has dinner with Silco and Enyd, and it goes well enough that she broaches a new level of friendship with the revoluntionary.

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 8.1K

Grayson had been certain that when she received a request for an audience from the Undercity Councilor that it had been a mistake. Yes, she was Captain of Piltover’s Enforcers, but such correspondences were typically kept to the Sheriff. When she had informed LeDaird of Bone’s call, he had nodded knowingly and told her that it was not a mistake.

“He told me that he would be contacting you,” the Sheriff had said, eyes sweeping over the reports and notes officers had made about the robbery from the weekend prior.

“Do you know what about?”

LeDaird shook his head, setting a manila folder down with a sigh.

“I don’t. But he’s a Councilor – “

“With all due respect, sir, to you and Councilor Bone” she said. And she meant it. “I believe my time and energy would be of better use in solving this dock robbery.”

“I agree,” LeDaird replied. “But it is difficult to do our job when the Council goes unheeded. Humor him. See what he wants.”

Besides the summons itself, its directions seemed equally peculiar. Bone did not invite Grayson to his office. Rather, he requested that she meet him on the Academy grounds and walk with him to that afternoon’s Council Assembly.

So, Thursday, Grayson strode onto campus and headed towards their designated meeting point. The quad was mostly empty, students being in class or eating lunch in the cafeteria. The leaves of the lush trees gently rustled overhead, and songbirds occasionally peeped and sang. The path before her was dappled in bright noontime light. The few students she did see, politely smiled and nodded their heads. She returned the gesture in kind and continued towards her destination.

Spying Councilor Bone on a marble bench, her curiosity piqued when she saw a young student at his side. As she approached, she noticed canes flanked either body. A simple, yet elegant black one with an aged silver handle next to the Councilor. A clunky, cobbled piece of joined metal and wood sat near the student. Together, they were poring over a large textbook. Bone held it while the student excitedly pointed at pages, speaking through bites of a sandwich he held in his free hand.

Grayson felt her lips lift into a small smile at the sight as she neared. The expression faltered when the student looked up and saw her. His big amber eyes that had been wide with excitement flashed seamlessly into an expression of fear. His jaw snapped shut and he recoiled behind Bone’s body.

Confused, the Councilor’s head swiveled in Grayson’s direction. At the sight of her, the lines on his face settled into an expression of satisfaction. She drew her shoulders back as she closed the space between them.

“Good afternoon, Councilor,” she greeted evenly. Playfully cocking her head, she peered at the student by his side and said, “good afternoon, young man.”

The boy flinched when she spoke to him. As if she had raised her baton at him instead of giving him a warm smile. Grayson tried to let the awkward interaction roll off her back, but she felt it seep under her skin.

“Viktor,” Bone said, addressing his benchmate kindly. “This is Captain Grayson.”

Viktor’s eyes flicked to the old man’s face and searched it for reassurance. Grayson softened her stance and allowed her arms to dangle casually at her side, instead of barricaded stiffly behind her back.

“It is nice to meet you Viktor,” Grayson said, making a point to pull her deep gravel voice to a lighter timbre.

Viktor seemed to find some resolve in Bone’s steady presence. He shifted forward and swallowed.

“H-hello Captain Grayson.”

“Viktor is from the Undercity,” Bone said proudly. “Like me. He’s a part of the Academy’s scholarship program.”

The wheels in Grayson’s head began to turn. Then hitched and stopped as she tried to puzzle together what was happening. Bone had called upon her for a meeting. Certainly, it didn’t have anything to do with an Academy student.

She masked her unease and said, “Very impressive. Are you enjoying your studies?”

Once again, Viktor looked to the old man for guidance. Grayson watched his chin pucker and she knew he was biting the inside of his lip.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Viktor and I have been having lunch together these past couple days,” Bone explained. “Swapping Underground stories, aren’t we lad?”

A nervous giggle bubbled up from Viktor’s throat, and he nodded amiably, fingers pinching and tearing at the wrappings of his sandwich.

“I called for the Captain to meet me here,” the Councilor said. “She and I are going to have a walking meeting on the way to Council chambers. Well, she’ll walk. I’ll limp, won’t I?”

He gently nudged Viktor in the ribs. An action that finally broke a genuine smile from the child, and Grayson felt her shoulders relax.

“I should get going myself,” Viktor said, taking the textbook and sliding it into his satchel. He wrapped the remainder of his lunch and carefully placed it within a smaller pocket. “I am hoping to ask Professor Holmgren a couple questions before class begins.”

Viktor looped the satchel strap over his head, took hold of his cane, and hauled himself to his feet.

“See you tomorrow, Viktor.”

“See you tomorrow J-jarrot,” he replied. The ease vanished from his face as he turned to address Grayson. Replaced by a distant skittishness that lived in the near luminescent glimmer of his eyes. It reminded Grayson of the whumps she’d sometimes see during a midnight shift, startled from their trash buffet.

“It was nice meeting you, Captain Grayson,” he mumbled, ducking his chin down a bit.

“It was lovely meeting you too, Viktor.”

She smiled at him, and watched as he forced the corners of his mouth to lift in a reciprocal expression. The boy swung his cane around, and his leg followed, guiding him towards one of the Academy’s many grand lecture halls.

With the child gone, Bone’s face fell.

“Did you see how he looked at you?” he asked. He stared up at the captain from beneath his bushy eyebrows, pale eyes intense.

Grayson gave a quizzical look back.

“Pardon, Councilor?”

“How the boy looked at you,” Bone repeated. “Did you see how fearful he was?”

She brought her hands back behind her and reset her boots on the ground.

“Perhaps he is wary of strangers.”

“Law enforcement,” he replied, taking up his cane, “those sworn to serve and protect, should not invoke such a response. I watched you come across the campus. No other student you passed flinched away.”

He hauled himself to his feet, brushed the creases from his trousers and said, “I was impressed and pleasantly surprised with your tact the other day when you and the Sheriff came to my office to ask questions about the weekend robbery. It is why I called for you.”

He reached a crepey hand into his jacket and pulled out a folder brimming with parchment. Grayson was confused, but she did not hesitate when he handed it to her.

“Walk with me,” Bone commanded, kicking his cane out in front of him and beginning the long walk towards the Council Building.

A vague sense of unease buzzed under Grayson’s skin, but she followed.

As she stepped in tandem with the old man, he continued.

“Those reports I just gave you highlight the disparities of reported Enforcer altercations between Piltover and the Undercity. Curbing Enforcer brutality has long been on my list of priorities,” Bone explained. His narrow face softened as he looked to his companion. “I am hoping this is something that we can work on together.”

Grayson’s brows creased, and she chewed her tongue as she gave the folder a cursory glance.

“With all due respect, Councilor,” she began, “there is a higher Enforcer presence in the Undercity because there is a higher crime rate. Naturally, there are going to be more reported fights between citizens and officers there.”

“Do you know the statistics on reported Enforcer brutality, Captain Grayson?” Bone asked.

She should’ve, and she mentally kicked herself for falling short.

“One in five,” he answered. “Approximately eighty-percent of cases go unreported. Now, those numbers do not distinguish between Piltover and the Undercity – it is for the whole state. But since there are more Enforcers in the Undercity, we can safely assume most of the cases being reported are from those denizens.

“Of those that get reported, do you know how many Enforcers are prosecuted?”

Silence.

“Less than two-percent. And of those who are, the percentage of those officers serving time in Stillwater is even lower.”

The staccato tap of Bone’s cane punctuated the tight silence between Councilor and Enforcer. Like the ticking of a clock.

“You will find in those reports, Captain Grayson, a worrying trend. If a Trencher robs a market stall and gets caught, nine times out of ten they will be shipped off to Stillwater for some amount of time – depending on the value of what was stolen. Often there are also fines incurred; legal fees and the sort. Very few Undercity constituents have extra coin to go towards additional bills. And so, when they can’t pay, they are arrested again.

“If someone from Piltover commits a similar crime, numbers show that they will most likely receive a fine and community service hours. Which, upon completion, could result in the crime being expunged from their record.”

Mindful to keep her tone helpful, Grayson said, “Do your reports show that many cases that may start as simple robberies incur additional charges such as resisting arrest? Doesn’t that explain harsher sentences?”

“There are frequently four or five Enforcers named as arresting officers in a robbery report from the Undercity, regardless of the perpetrator’s history. Meanwhile, a single Enforcer – maybe two – will make a similar arrest in Piltover. How can one resist arrest when they are so massively outnumbered?”

Grayson’s lips pulled together in a tight line. The unease under her skin thrummed in harsh waves.

“These statistics do not scratch the surface of the core issue,” Bone sighed.

“And what is that?”

“That being born in the Undercity increases citizens risk of being treated unjustly by a system that is meant to protect them. That is why Viktor looked at you fearfully. Because, like it or not, you were not taught to protect him.”

The Captain’s jaw clamped shut, unsure of what to say.

“Please know, Captain,” Bone said kindly, “I am not trying to put you on the spot, nor antagonize you.”

The Councilor’s face softened and his limping slowed. Grayson followed suit, belatedly realizing that they had arrived at the gleaming marble steps of the Council Building. Before ascending, he turned to look at her.

“Like I said, I asked for you because I can tell you care about people, not where they come from. Enforcer reform is not something I can do on my own. I will need help; specifically, from the inside.”

Unease burrowed deeper, leaving Grayson’s skin, and settling into her heart and gut. Her mouth was dry and she hoped Bone could not tell how unkeeled she felt.

“I know what I am asking is alarming to you,” Bone admitted. “I imagine it is creating quite a lot of dissonance and resistance within you. I am not sorry about that. I’m doing my job. To represent the Undercity and fight for its equity.

“Please. Look over those reports. I have annotated several specific cases, but this project would greatly benefit from someone of your station and clout.”

Grayson tucked the file under her arm and said the only thing she could, “I will do what I can, Councilor.”

He smiled somberly at her.

“Thank you. I will be in touch.”

For assemblies, the Council Chamber windows were kept uncovered. Bone preferred it. For trials, when the mighty and opulent shades were employed, darkening the space – save for the singular shaft of light that beamed down from the highest point of the ceiling onto the defendant – it reminded him too much of being in the mines. The unwelcome memory of being caught in a cave-in; swallowed up by the hunger of pitch, the only relief being the tiniest prick of light far, far above him and his fellow miners. The light should’ve been a comfort, but Bone knew that if light had tunneled its way through the stone that the integrity of the canopy was compromised. It wouldn’t take much for the rest of it to collapse and quash them all.

Bone was seated at one end of the semi-circular table, Hoskel across from him at the other end. Heimerdinger was perched at the apex, the other Councilors taking up their stations between. The standing room in the chamber was occupied by Piltover entrepreneurs who had business with the Council, other involved citizens, some political science students from the Academy, and a court reporter.

They had gotten through the first few appointments of the afternoon relatively quickly. Something Bone would’ve been happy about if it weren’t for the impending case on the docket: Rynweaver and company’s inquiry into the Academy’s lottery budget.

As the round merchant who had been seeking zoning permits toddled away, Heimerdinger shuffled through the notes in front of him.

“Let’s see,” the Yordle whistled, thumbing through the parchment, “next up is Mr. Thade Rynweaver.”

The rest of the Council followed suit, rustling through their agendas, and drawing up pens. Bone drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair as Rynweaver cut out of the crowd and strode to the mouth of the table. Someone nudged his shoulder, and the Undercity Councilor turned to see a weasely looking assistant in a finely tailored, but unremarkable, black suit handing him packets of parchment.

“Pass them down,” the assistant hushed.

Bone did so, taking one for himself before handing the rest off to Councilor Xiu. Rynweaver waited until the whole table was prepared before speaking.

“Esteemed Councilors,” he began, “I am here representing not only myself, but all the Academy’s benefactors. And behalf of them and myself, I want to thank you for your precious time.”

Bone fought a snort. As if the Council had ever or would ever ignore Rynweaver’s call.

“And what are the benefactors in need of our time for?” asked Councilor Krum, her bright eyes glancing over Rynweaver’s packet.

“I am coming before you today to address a worrying rumor regarding the Academy’s lottery program,” he said, black-blue eyes cutting to Heimerdinger.

Bone found he could not keep silent.

“You requested an audience for a rumor?”

The nobleman paused, then turned to look at him like it was a painful thing to do.

“If it proves to be just gossip, then this will be a short assembly, and you may continue with your other important cases.”

“What is this?” Councilor Hoskel asked, flipping through the packet.

“The documents before you are a comprehensive list of the Academy’s lottery benefactors, the amounts they have donated over the past several years, and the number of students who use lottery funds as a means to attend school.”

“What are these additional reports?” Heimerdinger asked, setting one half of the papers aside, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “These don’t appear to have anything to do with the Academy’s scholarship program – “

“I will explain once the benefactor’s question is answered,” Rynweaver said. “Tobias Kiramman, another longstanding sponsor, is a good friend with a high-level administrator at the Academy. They told him that there is some scuttlebutt amongst Academy board members about increasing the base donation rate for the lottery program. Is that true, Councilor Heimerdinger?”

Because of his species, and the general way he wore his heart on his sleeve, it was easy to see that Piltover’s founder was equally rattled and irritated. His long ears pulled back and lowered. His thick mustache drew back as his lips thinned.

After a long moment, he answered, “The Academy board has not officially met to vote on the topic, but yes, we have been discussing increasing the base for scholarship donations for benefactors of certain tax brackets.”

“May I ask what is necessitating this increase?”

Heimerdinger sighed.

“The more prestigious our Academy becomes, the more it costs to attend. That is the way with such institutions. It is an excellent problem for our school to have; but it remains a problem, and therefore must be dealt with. Tuition prices increasing means that the scholarship program will also require more coin.”

“Why?” Rynweaver asked. His voice was genuine, but Bone saw a trick in his eyes as the crows feet around them crinkled.

“To account for the differential. So that we can maintain our current number of lottery recipients per year.”

“Is that necessary?” Rynweaver inquired, his tone remaining polite while he took a step deeper into the circle of Councilors.

Heimerdinger looked taken aback by the question.

“Councilors,” he said, his voice swelled through the chamber, “the additional reports in your packets that Councilor Heimerdinger referred to, broadly cover Academy expenses over the past decade. The most interesting to take note of is that, while it is true tuition rates do increase by some percentage every school year, you’ll find that those costs do not necessarily offset the needs and upkeep of buildings, grounds, laboratories, or even course materials.”

“The Academy’s academic resources are not lacking,” Heimerdinger countered.

“Perhaps not for an institution of average means,” Rynweaver said, “but an institution like Piltover’s is a benchmark. We are the City of Progress after all. Shouldn’t the school all of Runeterra is flocking to present the part?”

“Aren’t the students what make it a benchmark, Mr. Rynweaver?” Councilor Bolbok questioned. “The minds and people that it is molding?”

“Some certainly,” the nobleman agreed. “I myself am an alumnus. As was my father. There is a graph in that packet that shows the average grades of lottery recipients compared to other students. You will see that they are not comparatively exemplary.”

“What are you getting at, Mr. Rynweaver?” Councilor Thornenburg asked, plucking the specified page from their packet.

“Now that this rumor has been confirmed, my proposal is this,” he said. “I believe that myself and the other benefactors’ donations would be of more use elsewhere in the Academy’s financial needs. New textbooks, new equipment, updated facilities. Instead of increasing the donation amount for the scholarships, use our funds to improve the school. Make it even more sought after.”

Finally, Bone broke in.

“You requested an assembly,” he began, “to not only flush out a rumor, but a rumor that has no bearing on this august body. This is a matter for the Academy Board, Mr. Rynweaver, not Piltover’s Council. My colleagues will not say as much, but I find it reprehensible that you would not only attempt to bypass the Academy’s governing body, but that you would choose this self-serving agenda rather than address what happened at your mine earlier this week.”

The polite brightness – faked though it was – in Rynweaver’s eyes faded. Cold, indignant revulsion replaced it. Bone felt his chest grow hot and he sneered at the younger man.

“If you are so concerned with where your coin is going, perhaps you should allot it to your business’s needs. It is utterly ridiculous that that is not the discussion we are having right now.” He looked around at his peers, unsurprised that they looked confused and taken aback. Aggravation cramped in Bone’s gut and he stood to alleviate it.

“Reports from the mine this morning said that the death toll is now up to seventy-five. Seventy-five men, women, and children are dead because of an accident at your mine, Mr. Rynweaver.”

The cramp in his stomach traveled up to his diaphragm. He gripped his cane tightly, trying to fight the spasm that wanted to make his lungs coil and sputter.

“With all due respect, Councilor Bone,” Hoskel said in a tone that offered none, “the accident was just that: an accident. Caused by the weather.”

Bone smacked the foot of his cane against the marble floor.

“The weather was not unusual, and there are safe guards that could have been put in place to prevent the cave-in and subsequent rockslide. Better and stronger scaffolding, ceasing mining operations when a tunnel becomes too tenuous to dig in. But no such measures are enforced – “

Bone’s breath hitched as the scratch in his lungs demanded to be dealt with. However, he refused to give into his bodily needs and pressed on.

“You are worried about your money being wasted on students who are not in a financial position to fully pay for the Academy – despite their academic performances proving that they deserve to be there – while your employees suffer and die because you won’t reallocate your funds.”

The first cough burst through Bone’s teeth. It surprised the room as much as his standing up did. Internally, the rageful Councilor winced. It was never one cough. Often, once it began, it carried on for several moments. Flustered, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. He pressed it to his mouth and cleared his throat. Unfortunately, that set off the body shaking hacks he had tried to tamp down.

Councilor Xiu lifted from her seat and guided Bone back into his as he wheezed and sputtered.

“I think an hour recess is in order,” Heimerdinger called out. “The Council is temporarily adjourned.”

Katya looked up as the tent flap opened. Will stepped through, moving his glasses from his forehead to the slope of his nose.

“You’re early,” she observed, putting the lid on another box of bandages, and then marking it.

“Only just.”

Will glanced at his wristwatch before taking in the stacked boxes around the tent.

“Is this what you’ve been doing today?”

“Mostly,” Katya sighed. “There haven’t been anymore bodies pulled from the rubble since Tuesday evening. I did rounds this morning in the triage tent. Nothing worrying to note. Orders came down from the board to start packing things up and label what is staying in the clinic and what is being sent back to the sanitarium.”

Will hummed. “Which is which?”

Katya leaned over a box and pushed a clipboard towards him. He took it up, eyeing the columns before him, and sighed.

“All we have to do is pack and label,” she said, stretching her back. “Some laborer or another will come by to transport items down to the clinic or onto a freight. Oh, I got it!”

Will had reached over to grab her coat, which she had spread over a chair. Hurriedly, she jockeyed around a stack of boxes and plucked it up. She threw her arms into it and tucked it around herself. She gave him a grateful grin as the shift bell droned.

“Good luck,” she said, heading to the tent’s entrance.

She was still looking at Will when she stuck her hand through the tent’s slit, and she jumped when it touched something upright, solid, and warm. Katya snatched her hand back to find Silco standing in front of her.

“You need help, young man?” Will asked as his co-worker regained herself.

Silco’s eyebrows lifted and he said, “No, I was just – “

His eyes looked over to Katya.

“ – My shift ended and I figured I would see if you wanted to walk together. Since we’re going to the same place.”

Will stood up a little straighter, and Katya replied, “Oh. Yes. Okay. Let’s go then. Have a good night, Will!”

She waved goodbye and slipped out of the tent. Together, they wove through the crowd of laborers. Some dispersed toward the mine’s stairs and elevators, heading for the perimeter, and then home. Others strode past heading in the direction of the mine, pickaxes on their shoulders, resignation on their faces.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” Katya said as they neared an exit.

Silco shrugged, and then chuckled.

“It would’ve been awkward if we had been walking in the same direction, at the same time, and not acknowledged one another, wouldn’t it?”

As they strode through the gate, Katya felt the tenseness in her shoulders ease. She allowed her coat and the contraband within to soften and settle against her body now that it was safer. Silco retrieved his cigarette tin from his trouser pocket and placed a pre-rolled one between his lips before lighting it. He noted the subtle curl of her nostrils as the first stream of smoke danced out of his mouth. How the mole on the apple of her cheek lifted in disdain.

“I am not smoking around my mother,” he promised. “Per your orders.”

Katya looked directly at him and sniffed.

“Good.”

He dragged on his smoke before asking, “Does it bother you?”

Katya considered for a moment before answering.

“Only in that it is not healthy. But,” she said, “both of my parents used to smoke, so I would be lying if I said it wasn’t nostalgic.”

“You are not a liar.”

It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t quite a statement either. Katya looked to her companion, a quizzical squint to her eyes.

“No. I am not a liar,” she responded. Then, quietly she added, “A thief perhaps –“

“No. Not that either,” Silco interrupted quickly. “Thieving implies wrong-doing. What you’re doing isn’t wrong.”

“That would depend on who you are talking to.”

“You’re talking to me,” he said firmly, fixing her with fiery, icy eyes. “You’re supporting your family because you have been given no other means to. And you support your family by assisting others who also cannot get help elsewhere. That’s not wrong.”

“I was not anticipating a pre-dinner philosophical discussion,” Katya muttered. “All right, then. If I am not stealing, what is it?”

“Surviving,” Silco answered easily. “The fact you get to stick it to Piltover a bit in the process is just – “

“Icing on the Piltover Petit-Four.”

“Exactly.” Silco paused before he added, “You said ‘that would depend on who you are talking to.’ Even if you spoke to Rynweaver and he called it stealing, his opinion holds no weight here.”

Katya’s mind silenced at that. And for a moment, the fear that accompanied her crimes ebbed.

“You’re not a liar, nor a thief, Katya. They might label you that, but that’s not who you are.”

“Who am I then?”

Silco shrugged, removed the cigarette butt from his lips and flicked it to the ground.

“That is for you to decide.”

Katya scoffed and smiled, “What an annoying non-answer.”

A deep rumble of a chuckle glided up from Silco’s throat, smooth as an oil slick.

“Who are you then?”

His laugh morphed into a considerate hum.

“A survivor, like the rest of the Underground. Like my mum, Vander, Benzo – the fucking idiot. Like Sevika. Like you,” he said. “It’s not all of who we are, but it’s a very large piece.”

Katya nodded, unsure of what to say. What Silco had said rattled an old memory loose in her head. It was too dusty to see or hear clearly, but it had the shape of her kitchen table, three bodies around it; the tone and cadence of the sound reminded her of her father. Despite being covered by the veil of time, the memory murmured through her lips.

“What was that?”

“It’s something I remember my father telling me and Viktor once,” Katya replied, her brow furrowing as she tried to wipe the remembrance clean. “I think he was trying to teach us some history about Piltover and the Undercity. I had asked why so many texts detailed Piltover’s rise, while the Undercity was barely a footnote. He had said . . . something like . . . the truth is very inconvenient to write. It is a story very few wish to hear.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know why that came up.”

“It’s fine,” Silco said. “I understand, I think.”

A chord deep within him vibrated at her words. It sent a tremor down his arms and he wanted to reach out and grasp Katya’s shoulder. Or her hand. To share the center-of-gravity-altering shake his insides were feeling. To ground himself with her.

“The truth is ours,” he said. “It’s Zaun’s story. A story of the survivors, not the thriving. I think that is what your father meant.”

A grateful smile, sincere with understanding, pulled at Katya’s lips.

“Yes, perhaps.”

The smirk Silco often wore lifted into something more resembling a genuine smile, before stopping and looking up at the building they were passing.

“This is us,” he said, stepping towards the entrance.

Feeling warm and carefully excited, Katya followed.

The apartment was a few floors up, and when Katya entered, she saw it was nice in a humble, meager way. Larger than anything she had ever lived in, cleaner and sturdier than her current abode, but was still distinctly Undercity. Cracks in the walls, a warped floor, old windows wrapped up to keep the draft out.

The smell, however, was wonderful. Katya’s mouth began watering the minute she stepped through the threshold. It wasn’t like the fry grease at Jericho’s, or any other food stall in the marketplaces. This was fresh, warm, and earthy, with a deep base-note of rib-sticking fat.

“Mum,” Silco called out. “We’re here.”

There was a gentle clatter from the kitchen, the shuffling of feet, and then Enyd’s head poked out from around the corner. A cloth was at her lips. She finished clearing her throat into it, before tucking the rag back into her woolen arm warmers and smiling broadly.

“Come in! Come in! Here, let me have your coat.”

Before Katya could stop her, Enyd was once again peeling it off her shoulders.

“Oh – er – thank you,” Katya managed to squeak. “Careful. There are – “

As she spoke, glass tinkled merrily from within the coat’s seams.

“Oh!” Enyd exclaimed. “My apologies. I should’ve asked – “

“No, it’s alright,” her guest assured. And then hummed, “Actually . . . hold on.”

She sifted through her coat while Enyd held it, muttering to herself.

“Ah! Here! This is for you.”

Drawing back, Katya presented a small vial of dark glass. Both Silco and Enyd recognized it as the medicine for the matriarch’s blight.

Enyd’s face softened and creased in a mixture of gratitude and reluctance. She carefully hung the coat over one arm and took the gift.

“Thank you.”

“I know you are probably not yet out of the first bottle I gave you,” Katya said. “But Piltover’s Sanitarium sent a surplus of supplies to aid with the rescue efforts at the mine. A bottle or two won’t be missed.”

“I should think not,” Silco agreed.

Enyd clutched the vial tighter and ushered the two further inside. As Katya stepped into their living room and eyed the neat stacks of clothes and a sewing basket in a corner near a worn and well-loved rocking chair, her skin prickled with unease. She suddenly felt like she was invading a space that wasn’t meant for her. She felt awkward and feared accepting the other woman’s too-kind invitation was an overstep. A mistake.

“Would you like a glass of water, Katya?” Enyd asked, as she placed the coat over the back of a chair.

The question cut off the train of panic in her head, but she wrung her hands together as she swiveled to look at the other woman.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Enyd smiled and gestured to the kitchen table just a few feet beyond the living room. Her teeth were straighter than her son’s, Katya noticed.

“Have a seat.”

Awkwardly, Katya wove past the furniture and took a seat at the mismatched table and chairs. Silco breezed behind her and into the galley-style kitchen, fetching three glasses from a cupboard and filling them with water from the tap.

“There’s some ice in the box, Silco,” Enyd murmured as she entered the kitchen from the hallway entrance.

Katya’s ears perked up and her eyes widened. They had an icebox.

Silco approached a rectangular metal cabinet stuffed into one corner of the kitchen. It came up to his chest, and he opened the top cupboard door. Reaching inside, he withdrew a fistful of ice cubes. He distributed them amongst the glasses, and popped the last one into his mouth before closing the icebox’s door. He stepped through the kitchen, placing his mother’s glass on the counter in front of her, before taking the seat across from Katya. He handed her the chilled glass, ice clinking inside like the medicine vials did in her coat. She accepted the drink, and the intense coolness of the glass reminded her of when she would stick her whole hand into a snow bank when she was little. She took a sip, amazed that the liquid felt cold going all the way down to her stomach.

“What did you make for tonight, Mum?” Silco asked, sipping at his own water.

“It smells delicious!” Katya added, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate.

Enyd smiled and drew a large, lumpy canvas bag towards her.

“Well, I spent the afternoon baking,” she nodded over her shoulder at a row of bread loaves wrapped in paper, “so that is part of what you smell. But I did use the little bit of excess dough to make rolls. Those are in the oven right now.

“I have a broth of oxtails simmering on the stove. I’m going to slice up this veg Mr. Nimby paid me with, and make a stew. Does that sound alright?”

It sounded more than alright to Katya. Wide gold eyes drifted to the steaming pot behind Enyd on the stove. She tightened the line of her lips, fearing the saliva pooling under her tongue may dribble out if she weren’t careful. She hadn’t had meat in . . . she couldn’t remember the last time. If she and her brother indulged in such a protein at home, it was usually the scraps at the fishmonger that no one wanted. She nodded. Enyd’s smile widened and she turned her attention back to the canvas tote.

Katya sipped again at her drink and looked back to Silco, who was leaned back in his chair. The nonchalance she’d seen him carry himself with had shifted into something more at-home and easeful.

“Do you always eat like this?” she joked.

He snorted playfully and shook his head.

“No. Mum just happened to get an especially good haul this week.”

“If we did eat like this frequently, perhaps I would be able to get some meat on his bones,” Enyd commented, drawing a knife from the butcher’s block and pointing its tip at her son.

“Oh wow,” Katya breathed, her eyes falling on the small mound of colorful vegetables now on the counter. Too in awe to be in control of her limbs, she lifted to her feet to get a better look at the bounty.

“I haven’t even seen some of these,” she gasped, stepping closer.

Enyd sidled over to allow space for the other woman at the counter.

“Yes, it’s not often such things make it this far underground,” she chuckled.

“H-how did you learn to cook these?”

“A lot of trial and error.”

Enyd gave Katya her own knife and walked her through the produce they would be adding to the stew pot, what each plant was and how to chop it. A couple of them – like the onions and soot mushrooms – she was familiar with. But when she cut into something that looked like a brown root, she gasped to see that its insides were a deep scarlet.

“That’s a ruby tuber,” Enyd explained. “It will take longer to cook so we’ll put that in now.”

She lifted the lid from the tall stockpot, a thick plume of steam erupting from its mouth. The smell of slow-cooked fat and meat coated the inside of Katya’s nose. It settled on her tongue and she peered into the pot. It seemed the scent had also pulled Silco into the kitchen, because he suddenly appeared over her shoulder, also looking into the bubbling stew.

Four stubby oxtails percolated in a frothy bath of rich, brown broth. Some of the meat had already fallen off the vertebra bones; the marrow in the middle was melted and mingling with the stock, creating oil slicks across the stew’s surface.

Silco reached around Katya, and dared to pluck a strip of meat that was dangling off one of the bones.

“Silco!” Enyd reprimanded, batting him and Katya to the side. She lifted the cutting board, and guided the chopped tuber into the pot.

Unperturbed by his mother’s swatting, Silco drew back, hooking Katya’s elbow and taking her with him. He bit at half of the meat he had swiped and handed the other piece to her. Tentatively, she accepted his offering and tucked it between her lips. She was not completely successful in muffling the moan that vibrated at the base of her throat. It was unctuous, meaty, and melted on her tongue.

“That good?” he asked, grinning.

“It’s delicious! Oh my Gods, Ms. Enyd. You are going to have to roll me out of here.”

“Good thing the Sumps are downhill.”

Katya rolled her eyes at him, but still smiled. Her tongue ran over her teeth, collecting as much of the oily fat as she could.

“It’s Enyd, Katya. I insist,” the older woman said, stirring the pot and covering it once again.

“Yes, okay. Enyd,” their guest conceded with a pleased grin.

She took up her station at Enyd’s side again, and continued cutting vegetables for the stew. Dice the onions, smash the garlic, slice the chard leaves from their stems before cutting them into ribbons. As they went, Enyd occasionally unlidded the pot to stir the contents. One time, she used a fork to fish out a small bundle of well-wilted herbs. Curious, Katya cut the twine and picked through them as her host named each one and explained its purpose and flavor profile.

“It’s mostly memory, mind you,” she had said and Katya nodded knowingly.

Soon enough, the rolls were pulled from the oven, golden and crusty. Enyd announced that the stew would be ready shortly and that the table should be set. She pointed to a shelf behind her, and Katya and Silco gathered bowls and spoons. They set the table as the older woman turned the stove off and scooped the rolls into a small wicker basket.

“Silco,” she called, thrusting the dish towards him. He grabbed for it and she warned, “Wait until we’re all seated, please.”

He set the basket down with an eye roll. Katya looked at the bread longingly.

“My parents used to say that, too,” she said dreamily.

“Yes, it comes in the handbook,” Enyd grunted as she brought the stockpot to the table. She heaved it to the middle and stuck a large spoon into it, giving the meal one last stir.

“Bowl, please, Katya.”

Katya lifted her dish up and Enyd ladled out a generous portion of stew. Before the young woman could pull the bowl back, one of the melting oxtails was added to the center of the soup. Enyd gave similar portions to herself and her son before sitting down.

Katya stared down at her steaming meal, the awkwardness she had felt upon entering the apartment dissolving into something sweeter and heavier. Gratitude, she realized. And it swelled when Silco held out the basket of rolls to her. She gently plucked one off the top, reveling in how warm and soft it felt.

“Thank you,” she murmured, although she was unable to look either host in the eye.

“Thank you for joining us, Katya,” Enyd said sweetly. “Let’s eat.”

Katya wasn’t sure how she was going to go back to eating oatmeal and beans after this. It was so good, and she felt badly that the chef couldn’t really taste her own creation. Somehow it was both rich – with the slow simmered stock and fatty meat and marrow – and bright – the fresh vegetables and herbs balancing the dish’s heaviness out perfectly. She tore the roll in half and took a bite of the spongy, steamy insides. Delicious. But it became even better when she dunked the other half in the stew and let it soak up the broth.

The table was silent as the three satiated the hunger gnawing at their guts, but the energy in the room was comforting, bolstered by the steam from the stockpot and the smell of bread yeast. As the itch in Katya’s stomach was scratched, something poked at her heart. She chewed on a strip of meat and softened hunk of ruby tuber as she looked thoughtfully between the other two.

It wasn’t the same, but the set up reminded her of her family before Viktor was born. When it was just her, Papa, and Mama. And then, after Mama left, just her, Viktor, and Papa. It had always been three of them. Until it was two. She missed her family, and wondered what a table of four would’ve been like.

As if sensing her thoughts, Enyd said, “I understand you have a brother, Katya.”

She nodded. “My younger brother, yes. Viktor. He studies at the Academy.”

“How does he like it?”

The question gave Katya pause, unsure if she had ever asked Viktor such a thing.

“I think so,” she answered uncertainly. The words tasted sour on her tongue and ruined her meal. Her lips pursed and she corrected herself, “Actually, I’m not sure if he likes it. Him attending is a necessity. He gets sick easily and the air quality Topside is better for him.”

Enyd nodded and Silco shifted in his seat.

“I understand,” the older woman said. “I try to visit the Promenade frequently for the same reason.” She paused and added, “The medicine you’ve given me is helping with that, too.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Katya said quietly, bringing another spoonful of stew up to her lips.

A few more moments passed, punctuated by the clinking of metal on porcelain and soft slurps.

“How long have you two known each other? Silco hadn’t mentioned you until recently.”

Both young adults sat up straighter and looked at the other from across the table.

“Not long,” Katya admitted.

For some reason, the tips of Silco’s ears went pink and he said, “Katya did my physical this year.”

“Yes. How did that happen by the way?” Katya asked, eying him. “I usually do not see your unit.”

“Sevika managed to get some of the schedules turned around,” he admitted. She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Why did Sevika do that?” Enyd asked, gaze flitting between the two.

“To bully me into helping the Children of Zaun.”

“We did not bully you,” Silco countered, an exasperated grin covering his face.

“Oh no?”

“No. I think I made it very clear that joining was entirely up to you.”

“There seemed to be very little room to deny your argument. Especially since it was delivered so passionately,” Katya replied, cheekily.

“The way I said it hardly matters,” he said. “What does matter is that it is the truth.”

“Hmmm,” Enyd hummed, finishing a bite of bread. “What is it my boy told you?”

“He,” Katya began, taking herself back to the night Silco had showed her the Undercity and she had seen Zaun for the first time, “said that we – Zaun – deserve opportunity. And respect. That we deserve more than scrounging for scraps. It made me realize that we all deserve to thrive, not just survive.”

Enyd smiled with a quiet pride. “He told me something similar.”

Easeful conversation flowed across the table for the rest of dinner. Both Katya and Silco had second helpings of stew, and agreed to split the last oxtail. When the bowls were empty, Enyd made to stand and both young adults playfully admonished her before rising themselves and clearing the table. As Silco scrubbed the dishes, Katya prepared a kettle.

Over tea, Enyd told Katya of her Promenade clients and shared the marketplace gossip. Together, they brain-stormed of how to gather more Trenchers into the Children’s fold. They dreamed of what Zaun might look like once they were finally free. Katya watched Enyd’s light blue eyes become starry and damp as they spoke. She saw Silco’s become fiery and confident.

When the teacups were drained, Katya decided (with reluctance) that it was time to go home. As she announced this and lifted from her seat, Enyd addressed her son.

“Walk her home, Silco.”

“That is not necessary, Enyd,” Katya promised, pushing her chair in.

“Your coat is teeming with stolen goods,” she contradicted. “An extra set of eyes will not hurt.”

Katya opened her mouth to assure her that she could navigate the Lanes alone, but Silco interrupted.

“If you think I’m bullying, she is downright harassing. I’ll walk you home.”

A foreign warmth bloomed across her chest, and Katya conceded, fetching her coat from the chair in the living room.

Enyd walked them to the door and said, “Thank you again for coming tonight, Katya. We would love to have you again.”

Words caught in her throat as that overwhelming swell of gratitude from earlier rose from her chest to her mouth. Unwilling to let her voice crack, she nodded.

“Perhaps next time you could bring your brother?”

The tide of gratitude ebbed a bit. A discomfort Katya wasn’t ready to look at pulling it away. Still, she nodded and quietly thanked her host.

As she and Silco stepped out onto the street, he said, “So, do you need me to roll you?”

The callback made her laugh, and she said, “No. I think my feet can manage. Thank you.”

He smirked and retrieved a cigarette from his tin.

They walked in companionable silence for a bit, until Katya said, “It’s not just that you spoke to me truthfully, you know.”

Surprised, Silco looked over to her.

“Your passion for the cause is what helped me see it for myself. It helped me believe it.”

She lifted her gaze to his.

“The truth is hardly any good if you cannot convince people of it,” she added. Then smiled, “I just do not want you to downplay the importance of your passion. It matters.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Silco nodded and flicked the ash off the tip of his cigarette. He was thankful that the chartreuse glow of the chem-lights hid the pink in his cheeks.

“Do you want to lead once Zaun is free?” Katya asked. “Become the Head of State, or something?”

She asked in a tone that wasn’t entirely joking, and it gave him pause.

“Honestly,” he began, “I . . . haven’t thought that far ahead. Getting the Underground to rally has been my chief concern. Leading a revolution is one thing; leading a nation . . . feels like another. I don’t know if I would want that. Besides, it should be up to Zaun who leads them. We will decide collectively what form of government will serve us best.”

“And what if we choose you?”

The question ended up being more loaded than Katya intended. There was a charge in the air and it pulled at the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck. Despite this, she leaned in again.

“They don’t care, like you said,” she continued, jutting her head in the general direction of Piltover. “That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? Zaun will need someone or a group of someones that cares about its people. That’s where your passion serves us best.”

Silco smiled to himself.

“Are you auditioning for my cabinet?” he joked. “My campaign manager, perhaps?”

Katya snickered and shoved her hands into her coat pockets.

“No. That does not sound like something I would want to do.”

“What would you like to do? Once we’re free and have the means?”

Her eyes softened and became thoughtful as she seriously considered the question.

“I’d like to become a doctor, I think,” she finally said.

Silco nodded and tossed the stub end of his cigarette away.

“That seems fitting.”

The rest of the walk to Katya’s home was a mix of easy silence and murmured conversations about nothing in particular. When they reached her door, she stepped forward to unlock it.

As the deadbolt thunked out of the lock, she heard Silco say, “Good night, Katya,” behind her.

 A thought – a need? – zinged up her spine. She paused, fingers wrapped around the key, considering.

Finally, she turned back to him and said, “You can call me Kat. If you’d like.”

Her heart thudded to see his eyebrows soften.

“Good night, Kat.”

“Good night, Silco.”

Notes: OMG! Nickname privileges! Guys, when I said 'slow burn', I wasn't fucking kidding. I promise it will be worth it though. Things are about to pick up!!

If you enjoyed this chapter/are enjoying this labor of love, please leave a comment and reblog. I would be eternally grateful. If you wanna be added to the taglist, just let me know!

Coming Up Next: Heimerdinger and Bone have a heart-to-heart, Grayson grapples with her privilege, Enyd hears a rumor and gets an idea, and Katya and Viktor pick up his new brace. And see a familiar face in Augmentation Alley.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @dreamyonahill @pinkrose1422 @altered-delta @beardedladyqueen

[invisibleraven]

Accidentally confessing to each other while laughing over something for Willie/anyone? Please and thank you

Willie groaned as he looked over his schedule for the fall. He'd needed a skills course to graduate, and Dr. Butler the guidance counsellor had told him in no uncertain terms that no, he could not do Woodworking again. Which sucked, because it was an easy A involving him revamping the birdhouse he had made his first year for the third time and not losing a digit to the power saw.

So now Willie was stuck in Home Ec.

He was not looking forward to learning how to cook and sew and a course that still had a syllabus set in the 1950's where the women were expected to make a home while the men worked in ugly suits and ties. Even moreso when he learned the teacher was Miss Abernathy, who looked like she had just finished sucking a lemon every second and hated Willie for skateboarding on school grounds. And for winning the school mural design contest when she wanted her star pupils to win.

Willie just hoped she graded him fairly because he doubted he'd win in the fight over that, he wasn't exactly popular with any of the faculty given the aforementioned skateboarding and tendency to flaut the dress code.

Thankfully when he walked into the class, he spied an empty spot at the bench with Alex and Reggie. "Hey brochachos, you two doing this class?"

Alex rolled his eyes and nodded. "The computer classes were full."

Reggie beamed. "I like baking! My MeeMaw taught me how to do all this stuff, and Alex didn't trust me to take Wood Shop on my own, so here I am."

"Well I know nothing, so you may end up helping me limp my way through," Willie said, pulling his hair into a bun. Grinning to himself when Alex flushed at the move and Reggie failed to meet his eyes.

Look, Willie knew he was hot okay? And he knew that Alex and Reggie thought so too, despite their very established relationship. It wasn't like either of them were hard on the eyes either, so if they ever wanted him to join them, well Willie was game, but he doubted that was a real possibility.

Either way, it was time to focus, as Miss Abernathy walked in, her perpetual scowl present and accounted for and she told them to take out their notebooks for a crash course in health and safety regulations for this class. Willie groaned and wondered if it wasn't too late to switch to art classes.

A few weeks later, Willie was really wishing he had switched to art. He hated sewing, his fingers were constantly getting pricked with the needles, and thus all his fabric was full of small bloodstains. He was terrified of the sewing machine, even more so when Alex used it with ease and managed to make a set of placemats. Reggie had turned in a stuffed dog with a wonky head that he gifted to Willie once he got a decent grade. Willie had managed a passable pair of funky socks, but they had fallen apart in the wash when Willie wore them.

Thankfully now they were moving onto baking. At least this meant they got to eat in class, even if Willie still wasn't sure he should be trusted with spice levels given his very white benchmates. Maybe he'd keep his experiments with poblanos for when he cooked at Julie's house during band meetings.

Band meetings that he went to, because he helped Reggie design merch, helped load and unload the van with Alex. He was fine being an unpaid roadie since it meant he saw every Phantoms show for free and the Molinas fed them all every time they were over, which was pretty often.

"We're making muffins," Alex said as Willie found his seat. "Reg wants blueberry, I think carrot would be better, so you get to break the tie."

"Why not both?' Willie asked. "They might be an interesting combo. But I call not it on grating the carrots."

"That's not...okay," Alex sighed. "You're on dry ingredients, Reggie is on wet."

"You want me to use the lactose free milk sweetness?" Reggie asked.

"Nah, I'm okay having dairy if it's baked," Alex replied. "Willie you vegan this month?"

"I missed honey too much, so no," Willie replied.

"Honey?" Reggie questioned. "Not milk? Butter? Cheese?"

Alex snorted with laughter at that, and Reggie giggled, with Willie joining in. They had many a debate over his love of cheese conflicting with his occasional veganism. And how the vegan cheese downright sucked.

Willie shrugged, still giggling a little. "I like honey."

"I like you too," Reggie said, then slapped a hand over his mouth.

Willie sat up a little straighter at that. "It's okay Reggie. I like you as well, but I gotta say, not the nickname I woulda given you."

"Please, I get stuck with hot dog and he gets something better than honey?" Alex groused playfully.

"He's cowboy obviously," Willie replied. "And I like you too hot dog, don't worry."

"Well d'uh," Alex said, blushing pink. "It hasn't been super obvious what with you flirting and wearing all your crop tops to this class even after the teacher made you sit through three different videos about appropriate clothing to cook in."

Willie shrugged. "It made you both look."

"We were looking anyway," Reggie admitted. "So how about we do these muffins, and maybe enjoy them on a picnic date this afternoon?"

"Sounds good to me," Willie said, and began measuring ingredients. And maybe whisking a little vigorously, covering them in flour, just to make them laugh. Even if they got in trouble and had to stay late to clean up the mess.

Willie didn't mind, and that afternoon, he could care less about the flour still streaking his hair because he had Alex feeding him muffins (he was right about the blueberry carrot combo) while Reggie strummed his six string, serenading them both.

And Willie had never been happier he had to do Home Ec-no matter what grade he got, his new boyfriends were more than worth it.